The truth came with blood.
It began as a whisper in Ivy’s bones, a hum beneath her skin that refused to be ignored. Ever since her collapse in Rowan’s arms, her body had felt… different. Not weaker. Not stronger. Something deeper. Ancient. As though something had finally woken after centuries of sleep.
The royal infirmary was silent except for the rhythmic ticking of the enchanted clock on the far wall and the slow, steady beat of her heart in her ears.
Ivy lay on a bed of silver-threaded sheets, staring at the vaulted ceiling, while three elders, the pack witch, and Rowan stood in a tense semicircle around her.
Rowan’s jaw was clenched so tightly a vein throbbed at his temple. His power was still diminished, unstable, and tied directly to her presence. He hadn’t left her side since sh
