Vaelin’s POV
My eyes narrowed as I turned the scrap of fabric over in my hands, my mind firing off question after question. Where had it come from? How did it end up here, of all places — my secret base?
I lifted it to my nose and breathed in. Lyra’s scent hit me instantly, familiar in a way that made my chest tighten. But what was it doing here?
My thoughts pulled me straight back to the last time I had seen Lyra, the memory of her disappearance sitting like a stone in my gut. I had been looking for her ever since — combing through the territory, pressing anyone who might know something — and coming up with nothing every single time.
And now, this.
I looked the fabric over more carefully. The edges were torn and roughed up, like it had been ripped from her clothes during a struggle.
