By the time Evelyn and Ronan returned to Silvercrest, dawn was breaking again.

The first rays of light filtered through the trees, painting the world in soft gold—but peace didn’t follow it this time. The forest still felt wrong. The birds remained silent. The air held a cold that went deeper than weather. It clung to Evelyn’s skin, to her very soul, like a whisper that refused to fade.

The Wraith’s words echoed inside her: The balance has been broken.

She could still feel the echo ...