KAEL – POV
Callen's scream didn't fade, it widened. Like a tear through sound. Through fate.
The chamber shook, not from impact, but from reversal. The bond in my chest buckled. Not broken—recalculated. Like the world suddenly forgot the rules it had sworn to uphold.
Ayla dropped to one knee.
Her hand braced on the root-stone.
Her breath was sharp.
Controlled.
But not calm.
Because something had just shifted something ancient. Something even the Founders feared.
I helped her up.
The fifth thread shimmered.
"Where is she?" I asked.
Ayla shook her head. "Not in any gate I know."
"She said they found it."
Ayla looked toward the open gate where Callen's voice had echoed.
"No," she whispered. "It found them."
The wolves gathered.
Frightened.
Wary.
Even the pillars that had survived Ayla's fire cracked down the center.
Symbols changed.
Words rewritten.
The eighth thread wasn't part of the Loom.
It wasn't part of any loom.
It had no braid.
No boundary.
