The guard's final words seemed to drain all warmth from the chamber.
The Ash Moon has returned.
For a brief moment, no one spoke. Even the fire in the hearth seemed to burn more quietly beneath the weight of the announcement. The dead infiltrator still lay on the floor beside the overturned chair, the black-feathered seal resting inside Kael's hand like a piece of buried history dragged violently into the present.
Selene felt the air in the room shift.
Not simply from fear.
From recognition.
The phrase landed with the kind of certainty that only true danger carried. It was not a rumor. Not a threat spoken carelessly by an enemy trying to unsettle them. It sounded like confirmation. A banner raised after generations of silence.
Freya's expression hardened immediately.
"That is impossible," she said.
No one answered her.
Fenrir stepped away from the wall, the lazy edge in his posture gone entirely. His silver-gray eyes looked darker now, colder in the firelight.
