Caleb didn’t wake when Aria called his name.

He lay beneath the arching roots of the spirit-tree, pale and still, his chest rising in shallow breaths. The wound across his side—earned during their escape from the Hollowed Spire—had stopped bleeding, but something deeper had been disturbed. His wolf stirred faintly beneath his skin, a flickering presence Aria could barely feel anymore.

And that terrified her.

Aria sat beside him, pressing a damp cloth against his brow, watching for any ...