POV: Kael
⸻
I knew before I opened my eyes that the lodge wasn’t safe anymore.
It wasn’t the cold — though the frost had crept under the door in lace patterns no flame could melt. It wasn’t the way the floorboards groaned under too many restless feet — enforcers pacing, witches whispering to walls that might listen.
It was Aria’s heartbeat.
Fast. Uneven. Her mark pulsed under my palm like a second life trying to break free. She’d slept tangled against me, sweat dampening my chest. Now her breath hitched when I brushed her hair back from her brow.
“Kael,” she murmured. “It’s moving.”
I looked down.
The mark — mine first, now hers too — had crept up her throat like a vine. Black lines kissed the edge of her jaw, delicate as ink but pulsing with a faint, terrible light.
⸻
I rose bef
