Dawn at the Bloodiron estate did not break with gentle sunlight. It bled over the jagged peaks in bruised shades of violet and gray, casting long, skeletal shadows across the courtyard. I hadn’t slept. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Julian’s face hovering over my paralyzed body, his false tears

I woke to the smell of burning wood and the soft crackle of a hearth.

For a moment, I lay perfectly still, staring at the vaulted ceiling of my guest quarters. The excruciating pain in my bones was gone, replaced by a deep, hollow ache. I took a breath and reached inward, searching for my wolf.

I didn’t reach for my mask. There was no point. The way Chloe looked at me—the sneering familiarity, the absolute certainty in her eyes—told me the disguise was useless.

"How did you know?" I asked, keeping my voice perfectly level. I didn't raise my hands. I just stood in the center of the vault,