POV: Rowan
The war room had never felt this small.
Rowan leaned over the table, fingers splayed across the map, breath coming in sharp, controlled bursts. Snow pelted the mountains outside, blanketing everything in deceptive silence, but he could feel the tremor beneath his skin.
Asher growled low in his chest, claws scraping against the floorboards beneath Rowan’s boots.
She’s close. I smell her. I know it.
Rowan forced himself to focus. The growl was steady at first, a warning. Then it escalated into a rumble, vibrating through the walls like a drumbeat. Warriors in the room shifted uneasily, eyes flicking toward Rowan.
Dustin cleared his throat. “She’s alive, Rowan. That’s all we need to know for now. We plan, we act. Not… panic.”
Asher’s growl deepened, resonating in Rowan’s che
