Chapter Eleven
The eastern ruins lay beyond the last watchtower, where stone roads crumbled into fractured paths and the land itself seemed reluctant to remember its name.
Lyra felt the shift the moment they crossed the boundary.
The bond tightened—not painfully, not urgently, but with unmistakable awareness. It was the same sensation she’d felt in the archive, only broader now, as if something vast beneath the earth had turned its attention toward her and decided not to look away.
Cain noticed immediately.
His stride slowed, eyes scanning the terrain, shoulders tense beneath his cloak. “This land hasn’t been claimed in generations,” he muttered. “No pack holds it. No Alpha patrols it.”
Elias rode a few paces ahead, posture composed but alert. “Which makes it ideal for those who pref
