로그인POV: JaceAiden’s hand is still shaking.I keep staring at it because I don’t know what else to do with my eyes. Six years ago I would have called that weakness. Today it scares the hell out of me.My own hands won’t stop shaking either. I tuck them against my thighs and stare at him. Six years of calling him traitor. Six years of telling myself he chose the throne over me. Now I know the truth. He chose me. The thought should make me feel better. It doesn’t. Not yet.I look at his face and hate that I can suddenly see the six years I missed. The exhaustion around his eyes. The way his shoulders never quite relax. Things I used to call arrogance because it was easier than asking what they meant.“You let them call me a traitor.” My voice comes out scraped raw. “You let me rot in the ash.”Aiden doesn’t move. No command. No Alpha edge. Just exhaustion.“I let you live, Jace.” He swallows. “They wanted your head. I gave them your shadow instead.”I want to hate him. I actually try. Some
POV: LunaWe are still catching our breath when the room turns cold.Aiden goes rigid under me. The scent of black tea and bergamot coming off him changes first; bitter, scorched at the edges. Then something older slips underneath it. Ink left too long in a sealed bottle.“She’s riding the echo,” he says. Voice low. “Get out.”I press both palms flat to his chest. The skin under my hands is freezing. “I’ve got you. Anchor to me. Find my heartbeat.”He tries. The Link shakes between us. I feel the thread move again.No. Not this time.White fire rises behind my ribs, and I slam the connection shut. The air cracks. Breath leaves my lungs. Aiden’s forehead drops against my shoulder. We stay like that, just breathing, until the room goes quiet again.“Severed,” I say. “She’s locked out.”“I left the door open.” His voice is rough. “I was thinking about the ridge. The ward pressure. I forgot.”I cup the back of his head. “You were carrying too much.” My fingers slide through damp silver ha
POV: AidenI stand over the war map of the reclaimed dawn ridge, but the numbers won’t stay still.Third pylon. Ice shift. Ward pressure.I read the same three figures again. They change every time.“The third pylon… if the ice shifts there, the ward…”I stop. Start again. Can’t.My black tea and bergamot scent has turned sharp. Cold clings to it. I can taste the bitterness at the back of my tongue.I should know this. I always know this.But every answer disappears before I can hold on to it. My jaw aches from holding everything shut.I drag a hand over the map, then pull it back when the ink smears beneath my fingers. Too much pressure. I blink and the lines separate again. Three pylons become five. Five become one. I grip the table until my knuckles hurt, waiting for my vision to obey me.The door opens. Pear skin cuts through the freezing air.Luna stops three steps in. She takes one look at me.“You’re counting the dust motes again, Aiden.”I don’t look up. “Perimeter w
POV: RavenShadow-glass warm against my ear.Myrrh hangs thick in the tent. Beneath it, I can smell myself everywhere. The blankets. The table. The inside of my clothes. I hate that I can't get away from it, even here.The glass crackles. A heavy door splinters through the link. Aiden has found the Omega.Good."You tracked mud onto my sanctuary, little bird." His voice is too clear, too calm. "Let's see what else you brought in."I press the glass harder. The edge bites into my palm. I have a hangnail on my thumb that I've picked raw. It stings.I don't stop.Aiden starts reading. Page two. The window latch on the far side sticks. Page seven. He always leaves his boots by the door.I close my eyes and the memory is already there, waiting."You mapped my bed, Raven." His tone doesn't change. "Did you map my heart, too, or just the empty space I left for you?"My jaw locks. I remember those sheets. The clean smell of his skin on linen.I shove it down before the knot in my throat choke
POV: AidenThe noon sun beats down on blood-stained sand. Sweat drips down my neck. Inside, I'm freezing cold.The twin bond hums behind my ribs. It's sealed, whole, but fragile. The grounding held six hours. We needed fourteen.Beneath it all sits a new thread. Gold. Foreign. Alive.Zara's claim from last night. I don't know what to make of it, so I focus on survival math.My hands are cold. I flex my fingers around the sword hilt, forcing blood back into them.Ten minutes, I push through the Link Call. We give them theater. Not a corpse.Just don't trip, Jace answers. Rough. Wired.Focus. My jaw locks. If we miss an anchor, Tavi dies.Then don't miss.The far gate grinds open. Jace steps into the pit.Black leathers dust-caked. Twin blades ringing once off stone. Dark energy bleeds from his shoulders in thin, wavering streams, warping the air around him.His scent hits me through the link. Smoked leather. Cardamom. Dark amber.From the gallery above, Dax leans over the iron railing.
POV: LunaThe light comes in wrong. Not the color. The angle. It hits the canvas at a slant that shouldn't exist for this hour, too thin, like the sun itself is leaning away from us.My palm is still pressed to Jace's chest. His skin gives off a dry, blistering heat, the kind that scorches wool black at the edges. The cot beneath him is ruined. Across the tent, Aiden's breath fogs. Rime crystals web the canvas behind his skull, clicking and splitting as they spread.A fish-hooked tension catches beneath my breastbone. Tears sideways."It's back." My voice scrapes out. Sleep-thick. I push up on one elbow. Jace's eyes stay shut, but the muscle in his jaw knots and releases. Knots and releases. "Aiden. Wake up."Silver eyes open. Already counting. He presses two fingers to his own wrist and holds them there."Six hours." Flat. "The grounding held six. It needed fourteen."I hear it under the numbers. Not fear. Something worse. His thumb presses too hard against his pulse point. The skin







