Aria
The storm arrives before dawn.
Not snow. A real storm. Wind tears violently across the mountain cliffs surrounding the wolf capital while thunder rolls low enough to shake the palace windows awake before sunrise. And the bond reacts strangely to it. Restless. Alert. Waiting.
Interesting. Very concerning.
I wake slowly inside Cassian’s chamber while gray morning light filters weakly through heavy storm clouds beyond the balcony windows. Kaelith is already awake. Of course he is. The dragon king stands near the fire with one hand braced against the stone mantle while flames roll faintly beneath his skin like restrained instinct.
Lucien sits beside the long strategy table reading reports far too early for civilized behavior. Eryndor remains tangled dramatically in blankets across th
