Ronan found me before the sky even considered turning blue, hovering at the edge of the clearing with my hands buried deep in my sleeves. Frost crusted the grass, each breath puffing out in tiny, fragile clouds. My eyes still stung from the binding—like the silver light had burrowed beneath my skin, coiling tight, waiting for a reason to rear up again. The hum beneath my ribs had settled into this relentless, steady thump that matched my heartbeat.
He came up behind me without so much as a footstep. That was classic Ronan—ghosting over snow like he belonged to it. When he stopped in front of me, his broad shoulders seemed to blot out what little light the dawn offered, making me feel small, almost invisible, even with the child growing inside me.
"You're awake," he said, voice even and unbothered. Just stating facts.
I gave a shrug, voice thinner than I wanted. "Couldn't sleep. The humming wouldn't quit."
