The rain started just as Rowan’s scream faded into the trees. It came down in sheets, cold and punishing, soaking her hair to her skin while mud clung to her knees. Lucien’s hand hovered near her shoulder like he wasn’t sure whether to help her stand or brace himself for the magic trembling through her.
She could barely breathe. The forest seemed to close in on her, every branch and shadow a threat. She felt Maisie’s absence like a torn-open wound. There was no trace of her daughter’s energy, no spark, no warm flicker in the bond Rowan had always kept hidden deep in her chest. Just silence.
She pushed Lucien’s hand away and stumbled to her feet, wiping her muddy palms on her jeans. Her breath came out in gasps.
“I can’t feel her,” she whispered. “I’ve always been able to feel her. Even
