KAEL – POV
My lungs burned. The acrid smoke rose in waves, curling across the crater like a living thing. I held Ayla's hand tight, taut as a leash, her warmth anchoring me when I felt the edges of reality fraying.
This battlefield was no longer about pack or council. It was about survival—hers, ours, the world Anaeon would become if we failed. The moment the emissaries fell silent, I thought the storm had ended. But beneath the ash, something deeper pulsed.
I glanced at her. Her eyes glowed silver, runes still vivid on her collarbones. Her power, her heart, was the axis everything turned on. I swallowed—not to steady fear, but to taste resolve.
We rose together. Wolves behind us stirring from hidden nooks, eyes wide and lichen‑bright. Ayla didn't speak. She didn't need to. The forest itself bowed as we walked forward, into the whispering smoke.
The awakening roots.
