The laugh echoed like thunder stitched with screams.
Deep. Ancient. Hungry.
It came from the roots of the mountain, vibrating up through the stone like something clawing its way to the surface, patient and confident. Not in haste—but in inevitability.
Quinn held Rowan tighter.
His son whimpered once, then curled into him, his small body trembling against his chest. “I heard it in the dream, Papa,” he whispered. “It was always laughing. Even when I screamed.”
Quinn shut his eyes and exhaled, slow and trembling. “I know, sweetheart. I heard it too.”
Jace stepped closer, his hand resting over both of theirs. “That wasn’t just Azren,” he said, voice low. “That was… something older. Something deeper.”
Kaelen stirred within him.
Not fully awakened, not in physical form—but a pulse of pre
