Rowan feels it before he understands it.
The land doesn’t roar or crack open. It doesn’t warn him.
It tightens.
Like a held breath stretched too long.
He’s halfway across the western ridge when the sensation slams into his spine—sharp, intimate, unmistakable. Power surges through the ground beneath his boots, traveling up his legs, locking his knees for half a second before he snarls and forces himself forward.
“Damn it,” he mutters.
That wasn’t meant for him.
Whatever just happened—it wasn’t a challenge, or a test, or another cryptic display meant to provoke him.
It was a response.
And the fact that he felt it at all tells him exactly how deep she’s gone.
Rowan breaks into a run.
The forest bends around him as he moves, branches parting just enough to let him pass. His breathin
