The howl still echoed in Sofia’s bones when morning came.
She woke with a sharp intake of breath, heart racing, fingers clutching the sheets as pale dawn light filtered through the tall windows of Theo’s manor. For a moment, she didn’t know where she was—only that something felt wrong, deeply and irrevocably bad.
The room was silent. Too silent.
No birdsong. No distant footfalls of guards changing shifts. Even the forest beyond the glass felt muted, as though it were holding its breath.
Slowly, Sofia sat up.
The bond hummed faintly, uneasy. Not pain. Not fear exactly.
A warning.
She swung her legs over the edge of the bed and padded toward the door, the stone floor cold beneath her bare feet. As her hand reached for the handle, the scent hit her.
Iron.
Blood.
Her breath caught in
