The ocean never stayed quiet for long.
Not when war had already tasted blood.
The stillness around Aerin didn't last.
It shifted.
Subtly at first—currents tightening, distant pressure waves rippling through the water like the ocean itself was bracing for what came next.
Aerin felt it before anyone spoke.
Her hand rested against her abdomen, fingers curled protectively, instinctively—like she could shield the life inside her from everything gathering beyond the horizon.
The pulse answered.
Steady.
Stronger than before.
But now—
There was something else woven into it.
Awareness.
Not fully formed.
Not conscious in the way she was.
But present.
Aerin inhaled slowly, her chest tightening.
"It knows," she murmured.
Caelum, who had not moved far from her side, turned immediately.
"What does?"
She didn't look at him.
"It knows something's coming."
The words settled into the space between them like a quiet warning.
