Ronan did not move. His bare hand stayed pressed against Elena's ribs, gold sparks still hissing where his skin met hers, and for three full heartbeats the most feared king in the realm looked like a man who had forgotten how to breathe. Elena felt it too — a warmth that had nothing to do with fever, spreading out from the point of contact like sunlight through frozen ground. The silver poison that had eaten at her for two days was simply gone, burned away in a single flash, and in its place something ancient uncoiled inside her chest and stretched, slow and hungry, as if waking from a very long sleep. Her wolf. Silent since the dagger, mute since the cage, and now suddenly, violently alive. "What," Elena said, her voice cracking, "did you just do to me?" Ronan's jaw tightened. He pulled his hand back as though her skin had scalded him, though the sparks had done nothing but heal her. He stared down at his own palm, turning it over, flexing his fingers like he didn't recognize th
آخر تحديث : 2026-08-15
