The present returned like a blade to the ribs.
Smoke.
Ash.
The sharp copper bite of blood in the air.
She gasped, eyes flying open as the memory shattered, the quiet firelight replaced by scorched earth and broken tents. The rogue camp lay in ruins around her blackened beams, trampled ground, bodies already cooling beneath the unforgiving dawn.
The past had lied to her.
Nothing had been whole.
It had only been waiting.
She pushed herself upright, ignoring the scream in her muscles. Around her, survivors moved like ghosts bandaging wounds, dragging the injured, counting the dead with eyes too tired to cry.
Her name rippled through the camp.
Not spoken loudly. Never loudly.
It passed in fragments, glances, pauses that lingered too long.
"She was there when it started."
"She survived again."
"The Alpha Council will want answers."
She clenched her jaw.
Across the clearing, he stood.
Alive.
Relief struck her so hard it nearly dropped her back to her knees but it didn't last. His posture was wrong. Too rigid. His gaze slid past her at first, as though looking at her might break something he was barely holding together.
Then he turned.
Their eyes met.
Everything unsaid in the past slammed into the now.
"You remembered," he said quietly, when he finally reached her. Not a question.
She nodded once. "The night before."
His mouth tightened. "I was hoping you wouldn't."
"Why?" Her voice was steady, even if her heart wasn't. "Because it hurts or because it proves you knew this was coming?"
That landed.
He exhaled slowly, glancing toward the treeline where smoke still curled like warning fingers. "Because if you remember that night, then you'll remember what I didn't tell you."
Her blood went cold.
"What didn't you tell me?" she asked.
Before he could answer, a horn sounded sharp this time. Official. Final.
Every head turned.
At the edge of the clearing stood the messengers of the Alpha Council, cloaks unmarked, faces already carved into judgment. One stepped forward, voice carrying with cruel ease.
"By order of the Alpha Council," he announced, "the survivor known as her is summoned."
No name.
Just a title.
Her fate had arrived.
She straightened, ash falling from her clothes like shedding skin. If the world had decided to sharpen itself against her, then fine
She would become something it could not break.
And somewhere behind her, she felt his hand hover near hers… not touching.
Not yet.