The air around me shimmered, fractured by the violent pulse of something ancient awakening inside my veins.
The cradle had been left behind, yet its power still echoed in my bones like a chime that never stopped ringing. I didn't know these people—this Lucas with eyes too soft, or Kieran with his stillness too heavy. I didn't know the wolves kneeling around me, cloaked in silver and fur and blood. I didn't know this world or its rules.
All I remembered… was the knife in Caelum's hand.
His betrayal. My scream. The unbearable pain in my chest.
That was the last thread that remained.
The only thing real.
The sky cracked open above me, not with thunder, but with a sound like glass breaking beneath oceans. A golden rift spiraled out of the clouds, hovering directly above the circle of stone I stood on. The ground beneath my feet pulsed with celestial energy, and I understood without memory, without reason—m that this was my call.
The realm of gods was opening.
