Chapter 29 The Cradle's Call

Fynn POV The mountains loom like jagged teeth against a sky bruised purple, their shadows swallowing us as we climb, the air thinning with every step. My lungs burn, my legs scream, but I push on, Morgan’s hand a vise around mine, pulling me through the dark. The hum of the well is a living thing now, a pulse in my chest that isn’t mine, a siren’s song clawing at my mind—*Come, return, belong.* I grit my teeth, fighting it, but it’s louder, stronger, and I’m not sure how much longer I can hold.