The fire had burned low.
Lira lay curled beneath Kael's cloak, her back to the cave wall, eyes half-closed. Outside, the forest whispered — wind through leaves, distant rustling, the occasional hoot of an owl. But inside the cave, it was quiet. Still.
Kael sat near the entrance, blade across his lap, watching the trees.
He hadn't slept.
Lira could feel it — the tension in his posture, the way his breath stayed shallow, alert. She wanted to speak, to ask what haunted him, but exhaustion pulled her under.
And then she dreamed.
Not of this world.
Not of Kael.
But of Eli.
He stood in a corridor of light, his face pale, eyes wide with fear. "Astra," he said, reaching for her. "You have to wake up. They're coming."
She tried to move, but her body felt heavy. The corridor flickered, glitching like a broken screen.
"Time is folding," Eli said. "You weren't supposed to remember this."
Lira gasped. "What do you mean?"
But Eli was already fading.
The corridor collapsed.
And she woke with a cry.
Kael was beside her in an instant, his hand on her shoulder, eyes sharp. "Lira?"
She sat up, trembling. "I saw him again. Eli. He said I wasn't supposed to remember."
Kael's brow furrowed. "Remember what?"
"Everything," she whispered. "The future. The collapse. My death."
Kael sat back, his expression unreadable. "Then the Seer was right. You were sent back with purpose."
Lira hugged her knees. "But what purpose? To fix something? To stop something?"
Kael didn't answer.
Instead, he reached into his satchel and pulled out a folded piece of parchment. "I didn't show you this before."
He handed it to her.
Lira unfolded it slowly.
It was a sketch — rough, faded, drawn in charcoal. A girl with long hair, a cloak, and a glowing mark on her shoulder.
Her.
Lira stared. "Where did you get this?"
Kael's voice was quiet. "It was given to me by a dying seer. She said I would find her — the girl from the stars. That she would change everything."
Lira's hands trembled. "You knew?"
"I suspected," Kael said. "But I didn't want to believe it."
"Why?"
Kael looked away. "Because it meant I'd be part of something I couldn't control."
Lira reached for his hand. "You're not alone in this."
Kael met her gaze, and for a moment, the tension between them softened — not vanished, but eased.
Then a sound echoed through the forest.
Not a horn.
Not a shout.
But a howl.
Low.
Long.
Unnatural.
Kael stood instantly. "That's not a wolf."
Lira rose beside him. "Then what is it?"
Kael's eyes darkened. "A hunter."
Lira's blood ran cold. "The prince?"
Kael nodded. "He's sent something worse than soldiers."
The howl came again — closer.
Kael grabbed her hand. "We run. Now."
They fled into the forest, the mist curling around them like fingers. Behind them, the howl rose — no longer distant, no longer patient.
It was coming.
And it knew her name.