The air inside the Winterborn hall tasted like memory. Cold, metallic, and threaded with a power that did not feel asleep at all. It curled around my lungs and settled beneath my skin. Frost coated the floor in delicate spirals and silver light pulsed through the walls like veins inside a living creature. The glow shifted every time I took a breath, responding as though the hall recognized me.
Ronan stayed close enough that his shoulder brushed mine, every line of his body tight and ready. He kept glancing at the silver roots woven into the floor, his jaw set as if waiting for the ground to reach up and devour us. His wolf simmered beneath his skin, teeth ready, eyes sharp.
Kade walked slightly ahead, blades drawn even though nothing had moved. His steps grew slower the farther we went.
