The first thing Ember noticed was the silence.
Not the absence of sound—Bloodstone was never truly quiet—but the way the bond went still. No warmth. No gentle hum at the back of her mind. No familiar pull that had become, against her better judgment, a comfort.
It was like waking up and realizing you could no longer feel your own heartbeat.
Ember slowed her steps along the forest path, breath fogging in the early morning air. Training had ended less than an hour ago, but her wolf, Vespera, paced restlessly beneath her skin, hackles raised.
Something’s wrong, Vespera growled.
“I know,” Ember whispered.
She pressed a hand to her chest.
Nothing.
Then—pain.
Not her own.
A sharp, breath-stealing ache flared through the bond, so sudden Ember stumbled, catching herself against the trunk
