Avery’s first breath back was a scream.
It tore through her lungs before she knew what air even was again — sharp, ragged, desperate.
Hands caught her shoulders.
“Avery—Avery, stop—” Kael’s voice cut through the ringing in her ears, commanding but shaking at the edges.
Her vision flickered — the world swimming in and out of focus. The sanctum ceiling, the familiar glow of the wards, the faces of reapers circling like silent wraiths. The Council’s silver sigils pulsed faintly against the walls, as though the entire room were holding its breath.
“Get—off me,” she gasped, shoving weakly against Kael’s chest.
He released her instantly but didn’t move far.
Avery’s fingers clawed against the cold stone beneath her as she tried to sit up. Her muscles screamed in protest; her mind screamed
