Chapter 96
Ember
For the sixth day in a row, I stand at the gates leading into Moonsand.
Same spot.
Same cracked stone.
Same cold wind brushing over my skin like a question I can't answer.
Five days ago, Tristan and the wolves who survived the raid stumbled through these gates—bloodied, exhausted, half-collapsed. Lady Kaia and the healers had to drag half of them inside by sheer force of will.
But Kellan wasn't among them.
Not his scent.
Not his shadow.
Not even an echo of his presence.
Just a single, devastating sentence from Tristan:
"He took off."
Like that explains anything. Like that answers why my mate—my mate who has never left me, not even for a night without kissing me so hard I bruise—vanished instead of coming home.
But Tristan was right about one thing:
Kellan was hurt. Badly.
Too badly.
Every wolf who witnessed their fight against Watson struggled to describe it—just fragments, shaky voices, pale faces.
Blood everywhere.
