The world returned not with fire but with silence.
Aria's eyes cracked open to a sky washed pale with the gray of dawn. The air was thick, clogged with the charred scent of wood and fur, smoke rising in fragile ribbons. The once-living clearing was nothing but blackened earth, bodies scattered like broken prayers. Wolves and men alike lay as ash-touched statues, some twisted mid-scream, others bowed as though death had sealed them in reverence.
Her body ached. Every vein burned like cinders cooling, and when she flexed her fingers, faint glows still shimmered beneath her skin before fading away. The mark slept for now.
"Aria"
The voice pulled her sideways. Kael lay close, his chest rising shallow, his skin mottled with fresh burns. She reached for him on instinct, hands trembling as she traced the seared edges. He was alive. Hurt, but alive. Relief surged so sharp it nearly broke her.
Then she heard the others.
