LOGINElmyra was alive.That was the first thing I understood as the silence settled after the fight. The city hummed beneath my feet, like a living thing holding its breath. The light that had flared during the clash slowly dimmed, the glowing lines in the stone retreating as if sinking back into hidden veins. But the awareness remained. I could feel it watching us, weighing us, deciding whether we were worth keeping.Fenrir’s blood stained the pale stone.That was the second thing I noticed, and it mattered far more.We moved him into the nearest intact building, an old hall with tall windows and broken banners hanging like ghosts from the walls. The inside smelled of dust and old magic. Winter sealed the entrance with ice and sigils while Oragon stood guard, his posture rigid and alert. No one argued. No one joked. The weight of what had almost happened pressed down on all of us.Fenrir lay on a stone bench, his breathing shallow but steady. Elven healing magic was already knitting hi
We didn’t stay.No one said the words out loud, but the decision was already made the moment the wards stabilized. The Veiled Concord had found us once. That meant they could do it again, and next time, they wouldn’t test. They would take.Elmyra was no longer a question. It was a destination that we have to go to, in order to put a stop to all of this.We moved before dawn, packing in silence. The healers argued again about Fenrir traveling so soon, but he ignored them with the same calm defiance. He wore armor this time, light elven steel that moved like cloth and gleamed faintly when it caught the light. The wound at his side was still bandaged, still healing, but his presence alone steadied the group.I stayed close to him without meaning to.The road to Elmyra was broken in places, swallowed by old magic and time. Trees grew where streets once stood. Stones hummed faintly beneath our boots, like the city was breathing in its sleep.Winter walked ahead, scouting. Oragon took the r
The silence after chaos is never peaceful.It pretends to be, soft footsteps, dim lights, the slow rise and fall of breathing bodies, but underneath it were low hums, tight and waiting, like a drawn bow that hasn’t been released yet.Fenrir slept.That alone felt unreal.I sat beside his bed, elbows on my knees, fingers laced together so tightly they ached. The healers had moved him into a smaller chamber closer to the inner gardens, where elven magic flowed naturally through roots and stone. They said it would help his recovery.They also said he should not wake up for at least another day.Fenrir had never been good at following instructions.Moonlight filtered through the tall glass windows, scattering pale reflections across his face. Without the usual sharpness in his expression, without armor or tension, he looked younger. Vulnerable.I hated how much that word fit.“You scared everyone,” I whispered, even though he couldn’t hear me. “You especially scared me.”His chest rose st
The heart chamber smelled like dust and blood.Fenrir lay on the center platform, surrounded by glowing elven runes etched into the floor. They pulsed slowly, matching the uneven rhythm of his breathing. Silver light flowed from the markings, weaving itself into his body like threads trying to stitch him back together.I stood at his side, afraid to blink even for just a second.The wound on his chest was deep. Corrupted magic didn’t just hurt his body. It lingered. It clung, it resisted the healing, which was why we're strugglign to patch up his wound.“He’s alive,” the Arbiter said quietly from behind me. “That alone is remarkable.”I didn’t turn. “That’s not enough.”Winter paced near the edge of the chamber, hands glowing faintly as he tried to stabilize the energy field. “The corruption’s embedded deep inside him. His regeneration is slowing it, but not purging it.”Oragon crossed his arms, jaw tight. “If this were anyone else, they’d already be dead.”My fingers curled into Fenr
The word "Warden" echoed in my head long after the High Arbiter said it.Silence stretched across the council hall in an uncomfortable manner. I could feel it pressing against my chest, making it hard to breathe.Fenrir still stood close to me, his hand hovering near my back.“How many?” Gabriel finally asked.The High Arbiter folded her hands calmly. “Originally? Seven.”Winter frowned. “Originally?”Her eyes darkened. “Only three remain alive.”A murmur rippled through the chamber.My stomach twisted. “And the others?”“Dead,” one of the elders said bluntly. "Or possibly since traces of their existence has long since perished."Fenrir’s jaw tightened. “You said cooperation. What does that mean for her?”The Arbiter met his gaze evenly. “It means Selene must stand where she once stood before. At the center.”My heart skipped painfully. “No.”The word came out before I could stop it.Everyone turned to look at me.“I won’t be bound again,” I said, forcing my voice to stay steady. “I w
The cell beneath the Capital was eerie in a way that made my skin itch.The spy sat behind a barrier of woven light and silver runes, bound at the wrists and ankles, her movements slowed to a crawl by layered magic. She hadn’t spoken since Fenrir dragged her in nor did she bother to struggle either. That was what unsettled me most.She wasn’t afraid.Fenrir stood just outside the barrier, arms crossed, posture straight and unyielding. He looked every bit the prince now, commanding, composed, dangerous in a quiet way. The guards stationed nearby kept their distance, clearly aware that this was not a normal prisoner we're about to interrogate.Winter hovered near me, unusually subdued. Though I can't say I'm not liking this version of him. Oragon leaned against the stone wall, arms folded, eyes sharp. Gabriel stood opposite Fenrir, expression tight.“She hasn’t resisted,” Gabriel said finally. “That worries me.”Oragon's jaw flexed. “Why do I get the feeling that she wanted to be caug







