Aria’s POV
The wind screamed through the peaks that night.
It wasn’t just the cold but it was alive, whispering along the stone, threading through the cracks in the ice like it was searching for something. Or someone.
By the time they found shelter, the pack was bleeding and exhausted. Verran’s flank bore claw marks still smoking faintly with frost. Two of the younger wolves limped, fur stiff with frozen blood. Kael was silent, his light dimmed to a faint pulse beneath his skin.
They found a hollowed-out cavern beneath a jagged ridge, its entrance half-buried by snow. Inside, the air was still, heavy with the scent of old earth and iron. Aria pressed her palm to the stone, cold, but not dead. The Hollow pulsed faintly beneath it, a heartbeat far below the surface.
“This place isn’t em
