SERAPHINA’S POV
The clearing behind Daniel’s treehouse became something else entirely over the next few days.
No longer just a quiet place tucked away at the edge of Nightfang, it turned into a space that hummed with purpose, with tension, with the kind of quiet vigilance that never truly let anyone rest.
If there were another way—if there was even the slightest chance we could avoid whatever lay buried beneath the ruins of the royal line—then I would find it.
And that meant fixing Aaron.
Alois, Corin, and I practiced through the nights, the moon our constant witness, refining the delicate, dangerous work of navigating a fractured mind without further tearing it apart.
Under their guidance, I learned to feel the difference between a memory that could be coaxed back into place and one that would shatter under pressure, to thread my power through the gaps without forcing it or triggering any backlash.
