AYLA – POV
The claw mark on the altar didn't fade.
Three days. Rain. Fire rites. Lunar passage. Still there, burned deep.
Just like the message:
"Round two begins when you stop watching the sky and start protecting your spine."
I touched the scar on my collarbone. Not from battle. From choice and maybe that was the wound Neris meant all along.
Rylan found me training in the northern ring.
Daya circled me, blades out, sweat soaked.
I didn't stop.
Not when my feet ached.
Not when the breath came ragged.
Only when I heard Rylan say one word:
"Movement."
I lowered my blade.
"Where?"
"The Spine."
A cragline beyond the Tundra Wastes. A place wolves only went to disappear, and Neris was there.
We met that night in the war chamber.
Kael stood beside the map, jaw tight.
"She's drawing the Fracture Line," he said. "She's not testing borders anymore. She's building her own."
Daya scowled. "And we're supposed to sit here and let her?"
