The valley had no dawn.
When the sun rose over the ridge, its light barely touched the ruins. The silver grass swayed in uneasy spirals, as if the ground itself was bracing for what approached. The hum beneath Elinora’s feet had sharpened into a near-constant tremor, vibrating through the dais, rattling her bones.
Her wolf’s voice was low, grim. He moves. The Grave Alpha stirs, and the valley feels his weight already.
Elinora stood at the center of the ruins, Spine in hand, her cloak heavy with ash from the fires still smoldering on the wall. She hadn’t slept. None of them had. The night had been spent listening to the valley’s roar, watching the cracks in the stone blaze without her touch.
Riven was at her side, silent as always, though his jaw was tight. Kaelen lounged nearby on a br
