The forest was not silent this time.
Wind rushed through the bare branches above, carrying the distant howl of wolves. The moonless sky pressed down heavy, and yet the clearing around her glowed faintly — not from any sun or torch, but from her mother’s presence.
The woman’s hair was black as the void, her silver eyes shimmering with something between grief and pride.
“You’ve grown,” her mother said.
Elinora’s voice caught. “Is this real?”
“It’s as real as you need it to be. You are Nightblood, Elinora. That power in your veins is older than the Keep, older than the court. But the chains on you — they will break, one way or another. The only question is whether you survive the breaking.”
“I don’t understand,” Elinora said. “Why does Riven want to keep them in place?”
Her mother’s ga
