The first night it happened, Kaden thought it was just fatigue.
The second night, he knew better.
His wolf paced beneath his skin like a trapped beast, claws scraping against bone, breath hot and furious. Every time the air shifted—every time the moon crept higher or the forest hummed with unseen energy—something inside him snapped awake, alert and violent.
Aria.
He did not need her name spoken. His wolf knew. It always knew.
Kaden stood on the eastern watchtower long past midnight, arms braced against the cold stone, eyes scanning the treeline. The forest lay deceptively still, but his senses screamed. Somewhere, far beyond pack borders, magic surged—raw, unstable, wrong. Each spike struck him like a blade driven into his spine.
His wolf reared, snarling.
Find her.
Kaden ground hi
