Adrian's POV
Something is wrong.
The bond pulls at my chest like a hook yanked from inside my ribs. It starts subtle—just a faint ache beneath my sternum—but quickly tightens like a noose. A scream buried too deep to hear, but loud enough to burn through my entire body. I stagger back from the war table, ignoring the scout mid-report. He falters, his words trailing into silence, but I can't focus on him anymore.
My hands curl into fists at my sides as I take in a shaky breath, trying to center myself. But the pain only sharpens, shooting through my core like a jagged blade.
It's her.
It's Alana.
And she's in trouble.
I don't know how I know it—but I do. Something inside me twists with dread, instinct screaming louder than thought. The fear crawling down my spine is a cold, venomous thing. It tells me what I already dread: I might be too late.
