The storm broke just before dawn. Rain lashed the fortress roofs, rolling in waves across the courtyard stones. Thunder rumbled like an ancient beast in the mountains, shaking the earth beneath the pack’s restless feet.
Kaelen stood beneath the overhang of the east wing, arms braced on the balustrade. His wolf paced inside him, agitated, teeth bared.
He had followed the pull last night, followed that faint silver thread that always seemed to lead him to her. He had seen light shatter the forest sky. He had smelled the clash of magic—Selene’s corruption, thick and acrid, and the other scent that made his wolf howl with recognition.
Aria.
He had seen her stumble back toward the fortress, glowing faintly even in exhaustion. He had watched her collapse behind her door. And then, minutes la
