AYLA – POV
The ash hadn't stopped whispering. Even days after the fire had settled, even after the Seer King fell and the Ashborne began planting roots in the bones of the old world, the threads kept humming under my skin.
I didn't sleep. I stitched. I scrubbed. I treated wounds with quiet hands and spoke only when asked.
Kael watched me. Solen didn't interfere. Callen hovered like she knew a storm was forming behind my eyes.
But no one said the word.
Cassia.
Not after the Seer King tried to erase the world by erasing us.
I was deep in the wound tent when the first tremor hit. Not a quake. A pulse. Familiar and bitter.
I froze. Because I knew the scent beneath it. Not hers. Mine.
I stepped into the clearing.
Kael stood at the edge, arms crossed. His posture said warrior. His scent said mate. But not mine.
Not yet.
"Something's wrong," he said quietly.
"She's still out there."
"She's baiting you."
"I know."
