Scarlett’s POV

The first time it happens, I think I’m imagining it.

I’m awake. Fully awake.

The sun is barely up, pale light filtering through the tall windows of Kieran’s packhouse. The room smells like clean linen and ashwood, familiar now. Safe. My body feels heavy but functional, the lingering ache of power use settling into my bones like a dull reminder.

Nothing about this moment feels like a dream.

And yet—

My name drifts through the air.

Not spoken aloud. Not heard with ...