But we were alive.
Until tomorrow night.
Ronan was the first to move, barely. He pushed himself onto his elbows with a groan that rattled in his chest.
His gaze swept the wrecked temple, then landed on me.
On the Heir in my arms.
“Aria… is he…? ”
“He’s breathing,” I whispered, brushing the sweat-damp hair from the heir’s forehead. “Just exhausted. His power is… growing too fast for his body.”
Ronan’s jaw tightened. “Like it’s trying to burn through him.”
Exactly.
The alphas struggled to their feet one by one, trembling and terrified. None spoke. None dared. The room still smelled like fear and shattered magic.
The crack in the sky was gone, but the air felt unstitched.
As if one wrong breath could tear it open again.
Garron limped closer, voice hoarse. “Queen… what now? ”
Befo
