The first time Aurora realizes something is wrong, it isn't in council.
It isn't in a report.
It isn't even in a fight.
It's in the lake.
The water is calm, moonlight smooth across its surface, the same place she has stood a hundred times, bleeding, healing, deciding, refusing crowns, choosing webs.
And yet tonight
The lake does not reflect her.
It reflects a girl she doesn't recognize.
Her own face, but older by centuries. Eyes too bright. Mouth set in a sorrow that looks like prophecy. Marks on her ribs flaring like molten script, not gold this time
Black-gold.
Like sunlight swallowed by ash.
Aurora blinks.
The reflection doesn't.
Behind her, the wind moves wrong.
Not like weather.
Like breath.
Her wolf rises inside her, hackles up, furious.
"Something's here."
Aurora's fingers curl slowly.
"I know."
The water ripples.
The reflection tilts her head.
Then the lake speaks in a voice that isn't sound.
It's pressure in her skull.
A hand on her throat.
