Aria’s POV
We woke to quiet.
Not the quiet of before. Not the quiet that meant something was listening for blood. This was the quiet that comes after a storm passes and the air finally remembers how to be still.
The mark on my palm was gone. Faded to just a warmth under the skin, like I’d been holding hot tea too long. But the ward stone still held the shape. Three lines, crossing. Palm. Leg twins. Tongue.
Ridah saw it first.
“It didn’t take,” she said, crouching by the stone. “It gave back.”
Coren traced the lines with two fingers. “The binding’s flipped,” he murmured. “Debt took. This… keeps.”
We didn’t sweep. Not today.
For the first time in ten years, Ridah said, “Rest.” And meant it. No pairs, no territories, no blades at the ready. Just the pack, breathing, at the ridg
