AYLA'S POV
The blast faded—light dying into a haze of cold air and shifting shadows. The trees around us trembled, their roots bleeding frost. For a heartbeat, I thought the world had stilled. Then Rylan's voice slid through the silence like smoke.
"Still running toward kings when it's the wolves who bled for you," he murmured.
I froze. Kael stepped in front of me, his body tense, every muscle ready for war. But Rylan didn't draw a blade. He just stood there, snow gathering on his shoulders, violet light pulsing faintly from his eyes.
"Rylan," I whispered, my throat raw. "What did you do?"
He smiled—slow, sad, and terrible. "What I was told to do."
Kael's golden eyes flared. "By whom?"
Rylan didn't look at him. He looked at me. "By the same ones who made you forget."
The ground tilted beneath me. "Forget… what?"
