AYLA'S POV
Cold air dragged through my lungs like sandpaper.
For a moment I didn't know where I was. The last thing I remembered was Kael's voice fading into light, his hand clutching mine while everything tore apart. Then silence. Now—snow. The kind that doesn't melt, just hangs in the air like dust from a shattered sky.
I pushed myself upright. Every muscle protested, trembling as if my body had forgotten how to belong to me.
The clearing lay in ruin. Trees bent at impossible angles, their trunks etched with veins of pale gold. The ground glittered with frost so bright it looked alive.
Kael lay a few feet away, half-buried in ash. His chest rose and fell, slow and shallow. Relief hit me first—then something sharper. His scent was still there, rich and grounding, but it didn't settle in my senses the way it used to.
Like my nose had been tuned to a different way.
