Aurelia screamed without sound.
The valley of light shattered.
The hum of universal resonance fractured into something sharp metallic wrong.
Her eyes flew open.
Cold stone pressed against her palms.
The scent of iron flooded her lungs.
Blood.
Not imagined.
Real.
The ritual chamber still glowed faintly beneath the suspended Blood Moon pouring through the ceiling aperture. Ancient runes carved into the floor burned in fading silver.
Her mark.
The White Luna sigil at her throat pulsed violently.
"Aurelia."
Lucien's voice cut through the ringing in her ears.
Firm. Controlled. But underneath it.
Fear.
She inhaled sharply. The vision still clung to her bones. The valley. The gathering. The resonance. The future where wolves stood without hierarchy.
It hadn't felt like a dream.
It felt like memory.
Her body trembled.
Lucien knelt in front of her, hands hovering near her shoulders but not touching. He had learned. He always waited for permission.
