The night pressed down on Silvercrest like a living thing, heavy and suffocating.
Outside, the wind clawed through the broken windows of the summit hall, rattling shutters and carrying the distant shouts of pack warriors as they scrambled to fortify the city.
Fires still smoldered from the earlier attack, smoke curling into the sky, carrying with it the acrid smell of burned wood, magic, and fear. Inside the healer’s wing, the air was thick with herbs, incense, and the faint, coppery tang of blood.
Kaden didn’t notice the chaos beyond the chamber door. His entire focus was on Aria.
She lay on the low healing table, pale, trembling, her arm wrapped loosely with a blood-stained cloth. The cut had darkened to an unnatural purple, veins spreading like ink under the skin. Her breaths came s
