Mozrael's eyes snapped open, but the world around her was an unfamiliar blur. Where was she? The soft creaking of wooden beams above her only deepened her confusion. She tried to move, but the coldness of the room made her shiver. The silence was suffocating, pressing in from all sides.
Instinctively, she reached for her wings, only to feel empty air where they should have been. Panic clawed at her chest, rising fast.
Then, images crashed into her mind—jagged, fragmented pieces that refused to fit together. Aramith's face contorted in pain, his eyes wide with terror. His body falling, spiraling toward the ground. Her wings. The crackling of electricity. The sheer, terrifying helplessness as she chased him through the night sky.
But…where was he? The pieces didn't fit. Something vital was missing. Her hand flew to her head, fingers tracing her temple as she tried to recall what had happened, but it was like grasping at the remnants of a fading dream.
