Seraphine's POV
At dawn, the castle felt as if it were holding its breath. The fog lay thick on the ground. The air was cool and sharp.
The silver band on my wrist felt heavier than its weight—real. I smoothed the dark, fitted shirt over my trousers. The healer said I should take it easy; my wolf said we’d “been sitting too long.”
“If you collapse today, I’m the one mopping you up.”
“I’m not going to collapse.”
“That’s what you said last time.”
A soft knock, and Cassian stuck his head in. “Up you go, little wolf. The king is already in the courtyard.”
“Coffee?” I asked.
“At the gate,” he replied. “If you move fast, you might still get some of the batch that doesn’t taste like clock-resetting.”
In the courtyard, Darius stood beside his black horse. Shirt-sleeves rolled up, training
