Chapter 115
Maren
The cliffs overlook the Great Lake, its surface still as glass, the early morning light turning it into a sheet of silver. The air bites with cold, smelling of wet stone and something ancient.
Kaelen stands a few feet behind me—close enough to reach, close enough to breathe him in—but giving me space because he can sense what’s happening.
The shift.
The stirring.
The call.
It starts soft at