VALERIE.
Power has a sound. It hums like a heartbeat, electric and ancient, vibrating through my bones. As our hands pressed together over the binding rune, I felt it coil around us. Not chains, not rope but something deeper—threads of fate re-knitting what had been torn. Jason’s fire. Jasper’s calm. Dorian’s gravity. Each thread wove into me, and I into them. For the first time in days, I breathed without pain. We stood there in silence long after the light faded. My wolf stirred, quietly. She wasn’t healed. But she wasn’t fading anymore.
And neither was I.
But I knew it wouldn’t last because something else had shifted. A part of the bond was missing.
Madam Rose.
Reports came in waves. Villages on the eastern ridge were under siege. A fortress meant to be impenetrable had fallen. But
