Ryvarn's POV:
The moon was wrong.
I felt it before I saw it. Something in the air vibrated too sharply, too off-rhythm. Magic shimmered at the edge of every breath I took. Not the kind that bends to will. The old kind. Wild. Hungry.
Nyssa walked beside me, her steps light but too quiet. She kept glancing at the sky like it was whispering to her. Maybe it was. The wolves had always been better at hearing things the rest of us ignored.
My own fire simmered under my skin. Not painful. Not yet. But ready. Coiled.
We entered the throne hall. The court was already packed—nobles in silk, guards in steel, and witches masked in shadow. The King sat with one leg lazily slung over his throne’s arm, smirking like the smug bastard he was.
"My dragon arrives," he said, voice dipped in mock affecti
