Blake POV
The instant Elle’s paws touched the stone, the fortress knew.
Not through magic alone.
Through memory.
The wards embedded into the ancient walls—sigils forged when dragons and wolves still stood side by side—flickered as if startled awake. Firelight bent inward, flames lowering their height without extinguishing, like sentinels bowing to a long-lost sovereign.
The air grew heavy.
Not oppressive.
Reverent.
Blaze went utterly still inside me.
Not coiled.
Not braced.
Not preparing to strike.
Still—as if something older than instinct had reached into him and whispered his true name.
I felt it too.
The shift wasn’t violent. There was no explosion of power, no roar of dominance. Instead, it was as if the world had inhaled sharply… and held its breath.
Elle’s golden wolf
