Dahlia's POV
The silence in the Great Chamber was heavier than the stone above us. It wasn't just the absence of screaming and blue fire; it was the death of an entire way of life. I held Axel against my chest, feeling his heart beat. It was steady, calm, and almost human. The silver lines on his skin had faded into faint scars, like the memory of a storm that had finally blown itself out.
Across the cavern, Nate remained on his knees. He looked smaller than I had ever seen him. The Alpha light that usually radiated from his skin, that heat that could command a room or a thousand-man pack, was extinguished. He stared at his blackened, smoking palms, then up at us.
His eyes were hollow. He looked like a king who had reached for a crown and found only a handful of ash.
"It's gone," Nate whispered. His voice didn't echo. It just fell flat against the damp floor. "The bond. The line. I can't... I can't feel them, Dahlia."
