The static in the air didn’t just crackle; it tore.
Through the dense, resin-scented fog, the sharp, rhythmic sound of a blade biting into calcified wood echoed through the grove like a series of gunshots. Shay was throwing her entire weight into the overgrowth, her movements completely stripped of all courtly grace. She was a weapon, tempered by years of duty, now vibrating with a raw, ugly, and desperate panic.
Beside her, Seth’s voice cut through the haze. It was no longer the clinical, steady rhythm of an academic or an advisor. It broke completely, rising to a jagged volume I had never heard from him—a raw, scraping shout that sounded as if his vocal cords were being shredded by the intensity of his own terror.
"Ivy! Get away from him! Don't let him inside your head!"
Ashton didn'
