เข้าสู่ระบบThe drive back to the cabin was a blur of winding roads and racing thoughts.
I kept checking my mirrors, certain someone was behind me. Twice I changed direction, cutting through towns I'd never been to, doubling back until I was sure I'd shaken anything following. Every headlight behind me felt like a threat until it turned off onto some side road and proved itself ordinary.
Mae perched carefully on the edge of the mattress, mindful of the tubes and the wince I couldn't quite hide. "Caelum, sweetheart, come help me with these. I am a genuine menace with flower arrangements, I always cram everything into the middle and it ends up looking like a floral explosion had a small explosion of its own."Caelum glanced up at me first, silently asking permission the way he'd been doing his whole life, and I nodded. He slid off the bed and trotted over, his earlier fear apparently forgotten in favor of sunflowers, already reaching for the tallest one with the single-minded focus only a five-year-old could bring to flower arranging."Not that one first," Mae told him, mock-serious. "You always start with the ugly ones. Hide them in the back.""Which ones are ugly?""None of them, technically. But some of them need more help than others."He considered this with the gravity of a much older child, and set to work sorting daisies from sunflowers with fierce concentration
The ceiling had thirty-one tiles. I'd counted them four times, and every time I landed on the same number, like counting might be the one thing left in this room I could actually control.It was easier than counting the hours since the arrow. Easier than thinking about the doctors who kept coming in with new questions and no new answers, the ones who talked about the compound on that arrowhead like it was a puzzle instead of something still moving through my blood.“Slow-acting,” they kept saying, like that was supposed to be comforting. “Designed to weaken, not to kill.” Not yet, anyway. Nobody said that part out loud, but I heard it every time regardless.The last doctor to come through, a young one, new enough that he hadn't learned to school his face yet, had stood at the foot of my bed with a tablet and a expression I didn't like at all."We've ruled out the three most common wolfsbane derivatives," he'd said. "Whatever this is, it's not in our database. We're sending samples to
"Caelum?" I stared at her, my heart hammering hard enough to hurt. "He's just a child. He doesn't understand any of this.""He's more than a child, Aria. He's the heir to the Silverwood bloodline, whether either of you wanted that or not, whether you'd chosen it for him or not." Mara squeezed my hand again, harder this time, like she needed the physical contact to make the words land properly. "Whatever the Order suppressed, whatever the Silverwood pack was protecting all those years ago, it lives in him now. In his blood, in whatever let him build that wall around you without a single lesson in how.""They want that bloodline destroyed. And you're the only one who can stop them."The weight of it settled over me, h
The beeping woke me before anything else did.It took a moment to place it, the steady, mechanical rhythm of a machine monitoring my heartbeat, patient and indifferent to whatever had put me here. Then the smell hit me, sharp and clinical. Antiseptic. Sterile white walls. Harsh fluorescent light pressing against my eyelids even before I opened them.“A hospital.”The last time I'd woken up in a room like this, I'd been giving birth to Caelum in the middle of a snowstorm, exhausted and terrified in an entirely different way.This time, I'd been fighting to survive something else entirely, something with a bow and an arrow and no interest whatsoever in whether I lived through it.I tried to shift my weight and a sharp bolt of pain tore through my shoulder, sharp enough to steal the breath right out of my lungs and pull a strangled gasp out of me before I could stop it."Easy." A voice, close by. "Don't move. You'll tear your stitches."I turned my head slowly, careful not to aggravate w
He was about to speak when I heard it. A faint whistle, thin and quick, cutting through the trees like it didn't belong to the wind at all.Because it wasn't the wind."Get down!" Dorian's voice cracked across the clearing, sharper than I'd ever heard it, all the calm assessment gone from it in an instant.I didn't think. I dropped, hitting the ground hard as something split the air where my head had been a half second before, close enough that I felt the displacement against my cheek like a held breath released too fast.An arrow buried itself in the tree behind me, still quivering from the impact, the shaft trembling in a rhythm that
The stone had been cold under my palm at first, unremarkable, just old rock worn into the shape of an altar by whoever had carved it centuries ago. Then the words had come, not spoken aloud, not exactly, but pressed directly into my mind the way a memory surfaces when you least expect it, uninvited and impossible to ignore.The voice still echoed in my ears as I pulled my hand back from the altar.“Find the truth. Break the cycle. Save him.”Save who? What truth? What cycle was I even supposed to be breaking? The words repeated themselves in my head, over and over, refusing to settle into anything that made sense, no matter how many times I turned them over.I stared down at the words carved into the stone, my fingers still tingling from the contact, like something had passed through my skin and left a current behind, humming just under the surface even now that I'd let go."Ms. Vance?" Lena's voice cut through the fog in my head, closer now, worried. "Are you alright? You look pale."







