The land screamed before the wolves did.
It rolled outward in a violent pulse, a shockwave that rattled windows, bent trees, and drove every living creature within miles to instinctive stillness. Aria felt it like a blade dragged through her veins, sharp and intimate, the unmistakable signature of a blood claim invoked under ancient law.
Her blood.
Her name.
Her wolf surged, not in panic, but in fury.
Damien was already moving, armor of command sliding back into place as if it had never left him. "He's doing this publicly," he said, voice cold with precision. "That means he wants witnesses."
"Of course he does," Aria replied, pushing herself upright despite the lingering ache in her chest. "Liam has always needed an audience."
The walls hummed as the wards adjusted, responding to her rising power. She swung her legs over the side of the bed, steadying herself as her wolf pressed close, no longer restless, no longer unsure.
Hungry.
