[Lavinia's Pov]
The moments after Soren ran felt impossibly still.
Too still.
The training field—once echoing with the soft clash of blades, Soren's grumbling, and my not-so-dignified complaints—had fallen silent. But it wasn't peace.
It was the wrong kind of silence.
The kind that holds its breath before something breaks.
I dropped to my knees beside Marshi, the grass cool and damp against my skin.
"Marshi?" I whispered.
Nothing.
Just that terrible, wretched sound in his chest—like something was tearing itself apart from the inside. It wasn't a growl. It wasn't a whimper. It was ancient, something primal, something wrong.
His muscles spasmed under his fur. His jaw clenched so tight I thought his fangs might shatter. And his paws—gods, his paws—they clawed into the ground like he was anchoring himself to this world.
Claws longer than I remembered. Sharper. Gleaming unnaturally.
I couldn't breathe.
