The Council SummonsArthur carried Tyla down the corridor, refusing to let her walk until the trembling left her limbs. She didn’t argue. Her legs felt like they were made of air—no, not air… smoke. As though she wasn’t fully solid anymore.
As though something inside her was shifting, stretching, growing.
She clutched the front of Arthur’s shirt. “That voice… how could it reach into the palace? Through walls? Through guards?”
Arthur’s jaw flexed. “Because it wasn’t physically here.”
“An illusion?”
“No.” He glanced down at her, eyes troubled. “A projection. A shadow-cast. Only entities older than wolves can do that.”
Older than wolves.
Older than kings.
Older than the foundations of the kingdom itself.
Tyla exhaled shakily. “It spoke my name.”
Arthur tightened his hold around her b
