POV: Kael

The medallion against my chest didn’t just pulse; it screamed.

It was a jagged, rhythmic heat that seared through my leather vest, a silent alarm tied to the house's foundation and to Lyra’s life.

I had been lured five miles out by a ghost trail of scent and shadow, a classic misdirection I’d been too arrogant to see through.

“Father!” a voice barked from the brush.

Aiden emerged, his face pale and his breathing ragged. He was supposed to be at the northern ...