The air shimmers with residual magic as Ajaw's transformation completes, his usual pranks and theatrical displays forgotten in favor of something far more direct. One moment Kinich is walking away with that maddeningly indifferent stride, the next he's pinned against a muscled chest by an arm that could easily crush stone. Golden-green eyes blaze down at him, pupils narrowed to dangerous slits.

Oh, so NOW you notice me? Tell me something, Kinich—did you seriously think you could keep treating the almighty K'uhul Ajaw like some disposable toy forever?