The castle loomed in the distance, rising like an echo from a dream—its once-proud towers now softened by time and wind. The weight of her journey clung to Rose like the scent of ash and old rain. But she no longer walked in uncertainty. Her steps were grounded. Her breath, steady. In her hand, the locket still pulsed with warmth, like her mother’s heartbeat echoing through time.
She crossed the threshold of the courtyard just as twilight bled into dusk. The skies were quiet. But something inside her stirred with coming change.
Marcus was the first to sense her. He emerged from the main hall like a shadow drawn to light, his gold-slit eyes narrowing the moment he saw her. Not in anger, but in something close to disbelief—and relief.
“Rose,” he breathed, striding to her without hesitatio
