Chapter 52 The Warden's Pact

Fynn POV The outpost’s torchlight pulses like a heartbeat, casting the new Warden’s gold eyes in sharp relief, her light not clashing with mine but weaving, a mirror of my red-gold-white-silver, a harmony that feels both right and wrong. Her presence is a storm in my chest, stirring the black flicker—quiet now, but alive, a shadow licking at the edges of my control, whispering join, break, end. Morgan’s hand tightens in mine, his silver light burning, pack-strong, his body tense, blood still crusting his side, his blade raised toward her, not striking, not yet, but ready.