Kaelan's POV
Sleep hadn't touched me in two nights.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the same thing Lyra standing in the fog, her eyes silver-bright, her throat bared to the darkness. It wasn't a dream. It was the bond sending flashes, fragments, warnings.
I'd learned not to ignore them.
The Ironclaw stronghold was quiet at this hour. Most of the pack slept, unaware of the storm that was already moving toward them. I stood alone on the balcony overlooking the forest, the wind pulling at my hair, the faint scent of rain clinging to the air.
She was too far, but her presence brushed against my senses like static thin, flickering, but alive. Fear threaded through it.
Not hers. Mine.
"Still awake?" Darius's voice came from behind me, rough with exhaustion. He leaned against the stone railing, eyes narrowed. "You felt it again, didn't you?"
I didn't answer. I didn't need to.
"She's in trouble," he said quietly.
