(Ava’s POV)
The cold hit me harder than I expected as I stepped outside the barracks, the early morning air sharp against my skin. It wasn’t the kind of cold that came from weather—it was the kind that settled in your bones after a night filled with dreams you couldn’t run from.
Last night I’d dreamed of fire. Of Ravenwood burning. Of Dominic, standing in the flames, eyes unreadable. And of Caleb, whispering promises I once thought meant something.
I pulled my cloak tighter and pushed those thoughts away. The camp was already stirring—shouts, metal clashing in training, and the low murmur of movement across the compound. Tension clung to everything like smoke after battle. The meeting with Caleb had shaken more than just the leadership. The whispers were growing—whispers of war, betraya
