Edward jolted upright, heart racing.
He whipped his head toward the others.
Aria and Rowan were arguing mildly about mana flow. Calen stood vigil near the trees. Selene was examining glowing residue on the ground.
They looked normal.
Perfectly normal.
But his skin crawled. His breath came too fast. The whisper echoed again inside his skull—
"…not real…"
He clenched his fists, trying to steady himself.
"I'm imagining things," he muttered.
But the wind rustled again, brushing the flowers in a wave—
—and every single blossom turned toward him at once.
Just for a heartbeat.
Then forward again.
Edward couldn't stop staring at the flowers.
He didn't want to—god, he didn't—but every time he tried pulling his gaze away, something tugged at the edge of his awareness, dragging his attention back to those softly swaying petals.
Just flowers, he told himself. Just the breeze. Just the grove.
But the whisper from before kept echoing in his skull, soft as breath, sharp as a needle.
