**Zelene**
The High Coven’s letter burned in my mind long after Weiss had dropped its shredded remains into the fire.
*The witch Delores for the Stormcaller girl.*
Like I was some object to be bargained over.
I stood at the edge of the pack’s training grounds, watching the first light of dawn bleed across the sky. My hands trembled—not from fear, but from the restless energy humming beneath my skin. The blue flames had become a constant presence now, flickering at my fingertips whenever my emotions ran high.
A twig snapped behind me.
I whirled, flames flaring instinctively—only to see Damian limping toward me, his bandages stark white against his tanned skin. His wounds were healing, but not fast enough for his liking.
“You’re up early,” he said, his voice still rough
