The cavern shuddered one final time before settling into a deep, vibrating stillness.
My legs finally gave out. The sheer volume of magic I had channeled—straining against the Gate, rewriting the ancient script with my own memories—emptied every reservoir of strength in my body.
I didn't hit the stone.
Caleb caught me before my knees touched the ground. He lifted me easily into his arms, pulling me against his chest with a fierceness that betrayed how terrified he had been. He smelled of ozone, blood, and crisp winter pine—a scent that had become my sole anchor in a world turned upside down.
"I've got you," he growled softly against my hair. "I've got you, Aria."
"I did it," I rasped, my voice barely a thread.
"You rewrote ancient magic, little wolf," he murmured, his chest rumbling
