POV EMMA BELLE
The tactical solar of the Black Crag was stifling. Despite the blizzard howling outside the obsidian walls, the air inside felt thick, heavy, and charged with a static tension that made the hair on my arms stand up.
I was trying to focus. I really was.
Nathaniel was pointing at a map of the southern passes, his voice a drone of logic and logistics. "If we fortify the pass at Whispering Ridge, we can funnel the Council's scouts into a kill zone. But we need your kinetic pulse to trigger the initial rockfall, Emma. Your timing has to be perfect."
I tried to look at the map. I tried to care about the kill zone. But the ink on the parchment seemed to be swimming. My skin felt three sizes too small, and a persistent, throbbing heat was beginning to coil at the base
