The dawn that followed Kane’s m******e was a pale, ashen thing — like the sky itself was afraid to breathe too loudly.
Aria Vex watched the horizon from the crumbling balcony of what had once been a Nexum watchtower. Her hands rested on the cold iron railing, her skin still tacky with dried blood. The wind carried the acrid smell of smoke and salt from the bay. It clung to everything, to every heartbeat that had survived the night.
Behind her, the mansion stirred. Wolves were waking, wounded, exhausted, but alive. Kellen’s voice murmured through the hum of generators, Aries was barking orders to scout patrols, and somewhere Vincent laughed, rough and bitter, like he was daring the day to laugh back.
But for now, she was still. Still enough to feel the tremor in her ribs when she breathe
