The morning came slow.
The sun peeked through the thick canopy above us, casting long stripes of light across the forest floor. I had barely slept, and what little rest I got felt thin, like I was only pretending to be unconscious.
My body ached in strange places—from the mark, from the dream, from being dragged into something far bigger than I knew how to control.
Rowan was already packing up camp when I sat up. He looked tired, too, but focused. Always focused.
“You good to move?” he asked me without turning around.
I nodded, then stopped and winced. “Yeah. Just sore. And the mark…”
“It’s still there,” he said. “I can tell.”
I touched the side of my neck gently. It wasn’t burning like before, but it pulsed faintly. Like Kael’s voice was sitting just behind my ear, whispering my name with every heartbeat.
“I dreamed of him,” I said.
Rowan paused. Then straightened up and looked at me.
“He was reaching for me,” I continued. “Telling me I was slipping away. He looked… I don’t know. Lo
