AYLA'S POV
Warmth slammed into my chest.
Not the choking fire of the Hollow, but something fierce and alive — the heat of a heartbeat that wasn't mine.
Kael's.
The golden tether burned across my wrist, searing me into the world again. My eyes flew open with a gasp, dragging me back into stone and smoke.
The temple was no longer silent and ash — it was chaos.
Steel clashed. Wolves snarled. Blood slicked the shattered floor. Firelight flickered across broken pillars, painting shadows that lunged and fought all around me. The war hadn't waited for me to wake.
"Ayla!"
His voice.
I turned my head and saw him.
Kael Valerius — the Alpha King — stood a dozen strides away, golden eyes blazing with feral light. His wolf clawed through his skin, half-shifted, a living storm of muscle and rage. Claws gouged the stone beneath his boots as though the earth itself bowed under him. His chest rose and fell in a violent rhythm, every breath tethered to mine.
