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Kian Sterling's panicked mind-link sliced his calm. Annoye
umsy Omega accident, but as he reached the door, a weak, intimate thought slipped into his
, a profound void. The moonpetal was gone, just grey dust. At Elian's funeral, unbearable grief struck. Memories crashed: Elian's mate
regret, clutching Elian's ashes, Ryker screamed to th
w him. Across the field, practicing drills, was a younger, healthier Elian, alive. Ryker walked
pte
Vanc
atrol. Urgent. Frayed at the edges. Not a clean report, but a mess of anxiety and the metallic
taste. He was pacing near the entrance, a warrior built for battle reduced to a ca
erl
th a deference that was almost
his agitation. "Report. And make it qu
toward the closed door of the den. The name bare
didn't come. I raised an eyebrow. "An Omega falls from a cliff. A tragedy, I
n't know. Healer Crof
on, but with a restless energy I couldn't place. I pushed it down. "Omegas are clumsy. It's in their nat
and put an end to this disruption. My hand was inches from the wood when
ot to be disturb
y jaw tightened. The air grew heavy with my displeas
d. "He's... unstable. The He
, when it came. Not a sound. Not a scent. A thought, slipping into my mind like a whispe
ome, R
ze. The thought belonged to Elian Thorne. I knew it with a certainty that made no sense. A low-ranking Omega I barely knew, whose face I
atched me, their expressions a mixture of fear and bewilde
was leaving not because I was told to, but because the wrongness of it all
*
spoke of power. Tonight, it felt like a cage. I paced from the hearth to the window, the silence pressing in. My duties were waiting-patrol schedules to appr
rough my bones. I tried to force him into submission, to leash the strange dread that
ounding them were limp, curling at the edges. I vaguely remembered Elian Thorne pressing it into my hands months ago. A gift for my ascension ceremony. I'd almost thrown it away
come easy. It was a shallow, fitful thing, full of shad
Not from a nightma
dge of my senses. I had never noticed it until it was gone. It felt like the world had gone deaf
ak rays of dawn, I lo
of the windowsill, was a small pile of fine, grey dust. Not a single
like substance coated my fingertip. A cold that had nothing to do with the air temperature seeped into my bones, a c

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