(Chapter 43: Mira's POV)
The fire crackled in the hearth, but the warmth didn't reach me.
The old woman's words echoed in my mind, sinking into the spaces where doubt already lingered.
"Once it's fully awakened, you won't be the same."
My fingers curled into fists. The mark on my wrist pulsed beneath my skin, a steady rhythm that wasn't mine. The whispers stirred, slithering at the edges of my thoughts, growing clearer, more insistent.
Not weak. Not strong. Ours.
A sharp pain lanced through my skull. I staggered back, barely feeling Lorenzo's hands as they steadied me.
"Easy," he murmured, but his grip was firm.
I wrenched away, shaking my head. "Don't touch me."
The old woman studied me, her gaze calculating. "It's happening faster than I expected."
"What is?" I snapped. My voice came out harsher than I intended, but the panic rising in my chest made it hard to breathe.