Fenric POV
The howl didn’t fade.
It carved itself into the night – raw and aching – and stayed there, a sound that tore through forest and stone and left the field trembling in its wake. Fenric felt it in his bones before his feet changed direction.
Before thought.
Before restraint.
He was already moving.
The path toward Warden Falls rose steep and slick beneath his boots, roots and wet stone grabbing at him as if the forest itself tried to slow him. It didn’t work. Fenric’s stride was long, brutal, driven by a fury that had nowhere else to go.
Lucien.
The name cut sharp in his mouth.
You don’t get to do that, Fenric thought. You don’t get to rip something open – and disappear.
Not after what Kaia had carried tonight. Not after the way the field had finally begun to settle –
