The feeling refused to leave.
Nyra stood awake long after the camp had settled into uneasy silence, staring into the darkness beyond the trees.
Someone was thinking about her.
The certainty sat heavily in her chest.
Not because her gift told her.
Because instinct did.
The kind that had kept her alive long before power ever touched her.
The forest remained still.
Yet something felt wrong.
Not immediate danger.
Not attack.
Attention.
The difference mattered.
Behind her, the camp slept.
Or tried to.
Even now, wolves shifted restlessly in their shelters. Patrols moved along the boundaries more frequently than before. Every snapped twig pulled eyes toward the trees.
The howls had changed something.
Not fear.
Expectation.
As if everyone understood they were standing on the edg
