The sky split wide open.
Not like a wound but like a command.
Watcher sigils burned across the heavens, their pale light draining all color from the world below. The air thickened, pressing down on Nightfall with suffocating authority. Wolves dropped to their knees as if gravity itself had turned against them.
Draven stood unmoving at the center of it all.
Silver threaded through his gold-lit eyes now, the bond blazing hot and alive in his chest. Pain and strength warred within him, but he did not fall. He would not not while Elara was still fighting somewhere beneath the earth.
“They come as arbiters,” the Keeper leader said hoarsely beside him. “Not soldiers.”
Draven bared his teeth. “Then they’ll die like liars.”
The first Watcher descended.
It did not touch the ground. It hover
