Seth woke before dawn, as he always had.
For years, that had been habit - soldier's discipline, Frost Fire training etched into bone and breath. Rise before the sun. Move before thought. Be ready before the world demands it.
But lately, he was no longer certain that was why he woke so early.
He lay still in the quiet of his chamber, staring up at the carved beams of the ceiling, feeling the strange awareness ripple beneath his skin.
It was not pain, not exactly. Not even discomfort. Just… awareness. A restless, coiled sensation that had no source he could point to and no end he could predict.
He closed his eyes and focused.
There.
A faint warmth at the edge of his mind. Not his own. Not fully separate either. A distant pulse, steady and controlled, like a heartbeat heard through layers of cloth and distance.
Her.
Aya.
Alive. Awake. Calm, but tired.
