“Arrange the moon-menders. Her father will have his ritual.”
My entire body trembled as I pushed myself upright, using the wall for support. My legs felt like lead, as if bound in chains.
Draven stepped toward me, hand outstretched—almost gentle.
I flinched back violently.
For a split second, shock flickered in his eyes.
As if he truly couldn’t comprehend why I would recoil from his touch.
But I didn’t wait.
Ignoring the agony ripping through my skull and chest, I turned and staggered down the stone passageway—toward my father’s chamber.
After my father’s moon-mending ritual, the Senior Bone-Mender told me that although the procedure had technically succeeded, the delay had weakened the bone’s lunar fusion. There would be lasting consequences.
My legs buckled and I collapsed onto the cold stone floor of the healer-sanctum. Tears poured down my face, unstoppable.
If Alpha Draven hadn’t commanded the entire Bone-Mender Circle to tend to Myrielle’s twisted ankle, my father wouldn’t have suffered like this.
When my sobs finally quieted, I sensed another presence in the stone passageway.
Calder—true heir of the Blackspire Pack, the Alpha-born son. My former neighbor.