The air inside the heart of the forest was thick, almost suffocating, heavy with the scent of damp earth, moss, and something older, older than time itself. Mist swirled around Elowen’s legs, curling upward like living fingers, and the shadows that had haunted their path seemed to pulse in response to her presence. Lyra coiled tightly within her, a storm of raw power and instinct, trembling with anticipation. Every nerve in Elowen’s body was alive, every heartbeat synchronized with the rhythm of the forest, with the pulse of the wolf, with the tension of the trial that demanded total mastery.
Alaric stayed at her side, unwavering, his blade held ready, but his gaze flicked repeatedly to her, concern and awe warring across his expression. They had fought countless waves of shadows, but thi
