Magic fractured under the earth.
Not noisy.
Non violent.
Old.
Like a lock that had been there for centuries suddenly giving way.
The guards outside the prison stood still.
They felt it before they knew it.
A pressure wave through the rock.
A presence. An
An order.
The kind of instinct that went beyond thought.
All the wolves in the territory lifted their heads.
Within the cell...
Seraphina didn’t move.
The silver cracks that ran across her skin were not wounds.
They were coming to.
The seal that had been keeping her power in check since she’d returned wasn’t protecting her.
It was holding her back.
Her wolf moved forward in her mind.
Not the wounded thing that chased her after death.
Not the frightened survivor who had buried herself in pain.
Something older.
A thing
