AYLA'S POV
Darkness pressed against my eyelids. Not the kind of darkness that came from closing your eyes, but something thicker—heavier. It pulsed with a rhythm not my own, cold and slow, like a second heartbeat wrapping itself around mine.
I tried to fight it. To move. To breathe.
But every time I clawed toward the surface, the whispers pulled me deeper.
Come home.
The voices weren't loud. They didn't need to be. They were everywhere, in every thread of my body, in every corner of my mind. They knew my name. They knew every wound I had carried, every scar.
They knew how to slip through the cracks.
I wanted to scream for Kael. My lips parted, but the sound refused to come. And still—I felt him.
The heat.
A steady, fierce burn against my skin where his arms held me tight. Not hurting. Never hurting. Just there. The only thing between me and the cold that wanted to unmake me.
