Her breath came ragged. Shoulders shook. But she didn’t cry.
She was coming apart.
I stepped forward. “Elle—stop.”
She didn’t hear me. Didn’t see me. Just stared into the mirror like it held something she couldn’t reach.
Then she dropped. Collapsed to her knees. The scissors hit the floor with a clatter.
“Elle...”
Behind me, a door creaked open.
Her head jerked up. Not to me. To the mirror. Just for a heartbeat.
And I swear—she saw something.
She lunged for the amulet, clutched it tight to her chest. Her lips parted.
The vision shimmered.
The mirror cracked—no sound, just light. Then darkness.
I was gone.
And Caelen’s voice dragged me back like a slap to the face. “Phoenix!”
I gasped. Reeling. The book fell. The vision vanished.
"What the fuck was that?" Caelen demanded. "You were just... staring."
"I saw her," I rasped. "I saw Elle."
Then came the growl. Eyes blinked open in the dark—six, eight. Low. Gleaming.
Caelen cursed and reached for his blade. I lit my hands.
"Wolves?"
The creature stepped into view.
"Nope. Not wolves."
It looked wrong, that was my first thought.
Too long-limbed. Too bent. Skin slick and black, part fur, part scale. Its mouth split sideways and down, lined with jagged yellow teeth.
More emerged.
Ravagers.
The book pulsed beside me—cold, alive. Symbols blazing. The hum of magic rose.
Like it was drawing them in.
"Oh shit."
Caelen drew his blade.
