AYLA'S POV
The sun was gone.
Night settled over the camp with the weight of prophecy. No stars. Just clouds too thick, sky too silent. As if even the heavens were waiting for a verdict.
I stood in the ritual chamber Kael had cleared for me—an ancient stone hollow beneath the ridge, etched with half-buried runes and sealed with wolfbone gates. He'd placed lanterns around the chamber's edge, but their flames guttered as I stepped inside. My magic didn't like being caged.
I knelt in the center, palms on cold stone. The breath I drew came shallow.
Across the chamber, Kael waited.
Not in armor. Not in command but in curiosity and a heavy heart.
Barefoot, bare-chested, with only the talisman around his neck—a shard of the moon crystal I'd once buried beneath his ribs to keep him alive. It pulsed faintly now, responding to me.
His eyes met mine.
"They've already gathered at the border post," he said. "The trial begins at first light." Shouted with full assurance.
I nodded.
