Elowyn tipped the flask against her lips, letting the bitter tang burn her tongue.
She counted the swallows, slow and measured, as if dragging out the courage it carried. The liquid clung to her throat like smoke, masking what she truly was — at least for now.
Outside, a horn split the night.
A ripple of excitement roared through the dormitory.
Boots slammed against stone floors, laughter and howls rising like a pack of wolves scenting prey.
Elowyn seemed to want to stall until....
“Elyan!” Azpen’s voice was sharp, impatient. “You heard the call. Move.”
She shoved the flask deep into her satchel, hiding it where no eyes could see.
Her heart was louder than the horn.
When she stepped into the wide courtyard, the night had already transformed.
Torches burned in a wide circle, their
