Scarlett’s POV

The stone is warm when I touch it. Not the searing heat of warning. Not the cold rejection I’ve felt before. This is different—steady, patient, almost expectant. Like it has been waiting for me to stop fighting it long enough to listen.

I close my eyes. The world peels away.

Sound things first—the distant shouts of guards, the clash of steel from the outer defenses, and the constant undercurrent of fear humming through the pack. Then gravity loosens. My feet no longer ...