Ravyn
The first tremor rattled the glass of the monitor and set both bassinets humming against the floor.
Ravyn jerked upright, pain tugging across her abdomen, but instinct was louder than hurt. She gathered one twin to her chest and reached for the other with shaking arms. Grayson was already moving—big hands, gentle touch—lifting the second child as the lights overhead flickered and steadied.
A second impact rolled through the underground like thunder.
“Wards are taking sustained pressure,” a witch at the door called, breathless. “Drones and something else—frequency weapons.”
Moira swept in behind her, robes snapping like storm clouds. The glow around her irises made the room feel warmer even as Ravyn’s blood ran cold. “They found the edges,” she said, voice sharp and calm at once.
