Chapter 57 THE WOLF THAT WATCHED HER BURN

Aria didn’t dream in images that night.

She dreamed in smoke.

It began as mist—silver-grey, soft, almost protective. The kind that clung to trees in early dawn, damp and gentle.

But there was something hidden under it.

A pulse.

Faint.

Not heartbeat.

Something deeper.

She walked through the m...

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