Kaelan's POV
The scent of ash clung to everything.
Even the rain couldn't wash it away. It fell in thin, gray veils over Ironclaw territory, soft enough to look harmless, yet every drop stung when it touched my skin burning faintly as if the land itself resented my presence.
I stood at the edge of the ruined courtyard that once held my father's training arena. Now it was a graveyard of stone and rot. The banners had been torn down, half the walls blackened by an invisible fire. Beneath the rubble, faint whispers crawled through the cracks like trapped voices.
It wasn't just a curse anymore. It was alive.
Darius approached behind me, his boots sinking into the damp earth. "It's getting worse," he said, jaw tight. "The outer patrols gone. The healers can't even touch the infected without being consumed."
