A week had passed since her return to Valon, but the feeling hadn't left her.
That quiet pull in her chest—the same one that had stopped her from flying straight to Thorne territory.
Elyra stood in the courtyard garden behind the dorms, the morning breeze brushing through her braid. Students were trickling back into the academy after the Hunt, their voices echoing faintly across the marble paths. Life was returning to normal—or at least pretending to.
But she couldn't shake it.
'Something's coming. I don't know what, but if I leave now… I'll miss it.'
Her instincts had never failed her. Not once. And though every fiber of her wanted to go to Noel—to see him, to make sure he was alright—something deeper told her to wait.
She exhaled softly, tilting her face toward the light filtering through the courtyard arches. "You're testing my patience again, Noel," she muttered, half amused, half uneasy.
