The land did not recover overnight.
It recoiled.
Across the territories, wolves woke with the taste of iron in their mouths and the echo of something ancient scraping against their instincts. Bonds felt thinner, stretched like wire pulled too tight. Pack stones pulsed erratically, some dimming, others flaring as if trying to remember how to exist.
Aria felt every fracture.
She stood barefoot in the inner circle of the Citadel, palms pressed to the stone floor, eyes closed as her magic sank deep into the land itself. The connection was no longer gentle. It was raw, unfiltered, alive with pain and defiance.
"He's tearing at the foundation," she murmured.
Damien stood guard behind her, unmoving, his presence a solid anchor amid the chaos rippling outward. "He's testing you."
Aria's jaw tightened. "He's testing the world."
