The storm had not yet come—but the air knew it. Thick with tension. Charged. The wind whispered through the trees like it was warning them to run, but the earth held its breath. So did Kael.
He stood on the edge of the battlements, cloak fluttering behind him, eyes sweeping the horizon. Below, Elira moved through the courtyard, her movements swift but careful, directing what few healers and runners remained. Every time he looked at her, it settled something in him—and unsettled something else.
They had come far. Too far to turn away. And yet, something in Kael’s bones told him the true battle had not yet begun.
“She’ll break the seal tonight,” Idran murmured beside him, voice low. “You feel it too, don’t you?”
Kael didn’t answer right away. He watched as Elira paused to press her hand
