Dawn's second light found Celia gone.
We passed the captive beast pens—Gideon's pack rattling their cages.
"Boss! Spring us!" his howl shredded the mist.
Since when did we share camaraderie?
I bared fangs, but froze at Celia's petrification. Her claws drew blood from my foreleg.
Silas' laugh was icicle-sharp. "They sang prettier than temple birds during interrogation."
"Sang what?"
His gaze pinned Celia. She became a sculpture of guilt.
"Trust me!" She clawed at my ruff, pupils blown wide. "I'd never harm you now!"
"Always," I vowed.
Silas' voice cleaved the bond:
"Even when conspiring with wolves to harvest your spirit-core?"
The world tilted.
Spirit-core? My... power source?
"Lies!" Celia shrieked. "That was... before... before I—"
Her voice crumbled to ash.
My tail lashed free of glamour—a striped betrayer.
"You wanted me dead?" The words tasted of broken glass.
Celia covered her eyes. A single tear cut through grime. "Never you. Not anymore."
Then she was smoke—vanishing where the prison wall met weeping pines.