Cold.
That was the first thing Aria felt. Not the kind of cold that numbed, but the kind that listened—a chill that crawled through her bones as though searching for something hidden.
When she opened her eyes, there was no sky, no ground—only a swirling expanse of silver mist and shifting shadows that breathed like living smoke. Her body floated weightless in it, untethered. Every sound was muted, yet she could hear whispers threading through the air.
Welcome home.
Her heart slammed against her ribs. She spun, searching for the voice, but the mist only thickened. A faint light pulsed ahead, and she forced her legs to move, though she wasn’t sure what surface she walked on—if any.
Each step echoed like footsteps on glass.
“Killian?” she called, voice small, breaking apart in the still
