The tremor doesn’t repeat.
But the hum never stops.
It lingers beneath the world like a heartbeat too deep to silence.
Morgan barely sleeps.
Helena dispatches emergency observers to northern territories.
Lilith remains in the shadows of the ridge.
And I sit awake in the dark, hand resting over my stomach, feeling the faint echo of something older than divine blood stirring beneath the earth.
By morning, we all know the truth.
We cannot ignore it.
We go north.
The expedition is smaller than any of us would like.
Too many wolves would amplify the field.
Too much divine presence might destabilize the seal further.
So we move carefully.
Me.
Kade.
Kieran.
Morgan.
Thorne.
And Lilith.
No Covenant operatives.
No pack banners.
No ritual geometry.
Just bloodline and caution.
