The night was alive with silver light.Not calm. Not gentle. Alive in the way storms are alive—unstable, breathing, waiting to decide whether they will become destruction or revelation.Aria stood at the top of the shattered temple steps, the stone beneath her still cracked from the force of her awakening. The chains were gone, but their absence felt like a ghost pressed against her skin. Her aura radiated outward in steady pulses now, no longer chaotic bursts, but controlled waves of silver light that spilled across the ruins like a second moon had descended too close to the earth.Behind her, the temple groaned faintly as it settled into its broken state.In front of her, the world waited.Her wolf stood within her mind—not caged anymore, not restrained, but coiled in perfect alignment with her will. It was no longer a separate force fighting for control. It had become part of her awareness, part of her judgment, part of her breath.And it was watching everything.Far beyond the tem
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