The border of Silvercrest had never been marked by walls or banners.
It didn’t need them.
The land itself drew the line.
Aria stopped just short of the warding stones, her boots sinking slightly into the familiar loam. Pine and frost tangled in the air—an unmistakable scent that lodged itself deep in her chest, sharp enough to steal her breath. For a moment, she felt thirteen again, trailing behind elders she had once believed were unbreakable. For another, she was older—standing alone in the circle, learning how easily belonging could be revoked.
She swallowed hard.
Every tree leaned inward like a witness. Every rustle of leaves sounded like a whisper she was not meant to hear.
“So this is it,” Lyr said quietly behind her.
She nodded but didn’t turn. If she did, she might not turn
