SKYE'S POV
The silence in the royal suite was heavy, thick with the scent of ozone and the dying embers of the fireplace. Eryx stood by the tall, arched window, his back to me as he looked out over the valley. Even from across the room, I could feel the erratic, vibrating hum of his wolf—an ancient, restless beast that seemed to be straining against its own skin.
I sat on the edge of the velvet-draped bed, my hands resting on my knees. I looked at them, half-expecting to see that soft, silver glow lingering beneath my skin, but there was nothing—just the faint, silvery outline of the crescent moon mark on my shoulder, pulsing like a slow, steady tide.
I was exhausted, yet my mind was racing with a thousand fragmented images from the quartz chamber. The woman with my face. The burning te
