Elara POV;
The unease doesn’t wake me.
It’s already there when I open my eyes, a low, steady tension humming beneath the morning like something just out of sight but drawing closer all the same. The room is warm, steady, the quiet safety of the packhouse wrapping around us, and Caelan’s arm lies heavy across my waist, his presence a deep, grounding warmth through the bond. He feels calm.
Which is exactly why the wrongness stands out.
Velarys stirs beneath my skin, alert without alarm, ancient awareness brushing the edges of my thoughts.
“This is not from here,” she murmurs.
I ease carefully from Caelan’s hold and slip from the bed, pausing long enough to watch him sleep. There’s a softness to him in these moments that few ever see, the way his hand curls slightly as though it expects
