The forest did not return to normal after the Keeper vanished.
Silence pressed down, thick and deliberate, as though the Northern Veil itself was listening. The wolves remained low, unmoving. Even the wind seemed to hesitate, leaves suspended mid-shiver, unsure whether it was allowed to breathe again.
Selara stood frozen where Draven held her, his arms locked around her as if releasing her would cause the world to split open again. Her blood seeped into his palm, warm against his skin, grounding him in a way nothing else ever had.
"You're bleeding," he said hoarsely.
She nodded faintly, only now becoming fully aware of the pain burning across her shoulder. It throbbed deep, not mortal but not harmless either. The silver light beneath her skin flickered, struggling to stabilize.
