[Ovelia's POV]
Gale smiled. But it wasn't his usual grumpy smirk or his rare, genuine grin. This was something else entirely—a slow, cold stretching of his lips that didn't touch his eyes. Those gray eyes, usually sharp with irritation, had gone flat and dead, like stones at the bottom of a frozen river. They held only a promise of something dark and violent. A surge of pure, unfiltered anger crashed through our bond, so intense it stole my breath.
"He just snapped," I heard Ace whisper beside me, his voice tight.
Snapped? The word sent a chill down my spine.
"It's not looking good," Ann murmured, her voice low and edged with tension. She shifted her weight subtly, her body coiling into readiness. "I can smell killing intent from Gale. It's faint, but it's there."
