KAEL'S POV
My throat was full of ash and fear, but I tightened my jaw and stood. Ayla lay unconscious in my arms—cold, still, as the ancient figure glowed from within the shattered tomb. A storm howled across the ridge, tearing at leaves and clawing at my control.
I raised my head, chest heaving, blood drumming through my veins like war drums. The ancient shadow that had stepped from the tomb breathed deep. Bones crackled beneath its skin—Scaly, luminous flesh stretched across ribs that looked older than kingdoms.
It spoke without words: an exhalation of power that washed over the clearing. The runes around Cassia sputtered, dimmed. Her expression twisted—between triumph and terror.
I pressed my fingers into Ayla's wrist—weak pulse. Alive. Breath shallow but alive.
Good.
But there was danger here that felt primordial. Not mortal.
"Beast," I snarled. "You won't take her."
