Chapter 112

Cold.

That was the first thing Aelin felt.

Not a simple shiver but a deeper kind—the kind that makes you wonder if your heart is still beating. It lived in her bones.

She blinked, and the world came into focus, pale and endless. The ground shimmered faintly, not quite stone, not quite water. Mist coiled around her ankles and drifted away again, as if it were breathing. Overhead, there was no real sky—just a soft silver glow that pulsed every few seconds, like a heartbeat somewhere above the clouds.

She sat up slowly. Her chest ached. The mark under her skin was warm, a slow pulse of light with every breath. She remembered the last thing she saw—her mother’s face, her father’s voice, the tower breaking apart—and then nothing but white.

Now, silence.

She brushed her fingers along the ground. Ripples spread where she touched, faint as soundless bells. For a heartbeat, she thought she saw her reflection below the surface, pale eyes staring back. Then something darker leaned in behind tha