Chapter 29

Days passed.

Or maybe it was just one long day that never ended.

There were no windows in the cell. No way to track time except by the stale crusts of bread the guards tossed in twice a day, and the slosh of water that barely rinsed the blood from her mouth. Her body was healing, but slowly. The silver cuffs burned a new ring of raw skin into her wrists each time she shifted. They wanted her to forget who she was.

But Evelyn hadn’t forgotten.

Not since Naviah came alive beneath her skin.

Since then, pain had become something else. Not comfort. Not weakness. But purpose.

She used the hours to train.

At first, it was small things—focusing her hearing, tracking the guards’ rotations, memorizing the subtle shifts of air when someone was watching. Naviah pushed her harder each time.

“Again,” the wolf would whisper, claws scratching inside her chest. “Breathe slower. Let the pain sharpen, not dull. Hold still until you can hear the blood move in their veins.”

And Evelyn would.

Sh