KAEL'S POV
The wind shifted first. It carried the smell of char and frost, of a world that had been burned and then buried under snow. I pushed myself to my feet, the weight of Ayla light in my arms but heavy everywhere else.
The forest around us looked carved out of glass—trees rimed in white fire, shadows moving in patterns that didn't belong to wind. The Watchers had gone, yet their silence lingered like a curse.
Ayla stirred. "Where…?"
"Not far from Northmoon's border," I said. "We move east. The packlands will be hunting for the source of that light."
She tried to stand, but her knees failed. I steadied her. The faint golden glow beneath her skin pulsed once, and pain flashed behind her eyes.
"Don't fight it," I murmured. "The bond's still settling."
Her laugh was small and hoarse. "You sound like a healer."
"I sound like a man trying not to lose you again."
