POV: Soraya
Vienne lit the incense with a single spark of flint, the smoke curling upward like silver ribbon. We were deep inside one of the quiet meditation chambers—small, circular, lined with woven rugs and old Ashra symbols carved into the walls. It smelled of sage, oud, and dust warmed by the morning sun.
“Sit,” Vienne said, dropping onto a cushion. “And try not to look like the world is ending.”
“It might be,” I murmured. “Did you hear about the envoy?”
“Everyone heard.” She exhaled through her nose. “And everyone is being dramatic about it. So, instead of pacing holes into your floor, you’re going to learn to breathe like a functioning wolf.”
“I am breathing.”
“Storm girl, you breathe like someone is holding your spine hostage.”
I glared, but sat across from her anyway. My fingers fidgeted in my lap. My mind felt like a sandstorm—loud, directionless, dangerous.
Vienne placed a carved bowl between us, filled with burning herbs. “Close your eyes.”
“Vienne—”
“Close. Your. Eyes.”
I obeyed, mostly so she wouldn’t throw something at me.
“Good,” she said, voice softening. “Now, inhale slow. Like you’re gathering sand into your lungs. Feel the ground beneath you. Picture the dunes. Picture the moon.”
I tried.
But the moment I closed my eyes, a dozen images flooded my mind—the cub I healed, the elders’ fear, Azhara’s fake pity, Raevan’s voice breaking when he said he missed me, the envoy’s caravan, the threat of war, Zarek’s shadow stretching across the dunes.
My chest tightened. “I can’t do this.”
“Yes, you can,” Vienne said, placed her hands gently over mine. “Your mind is loud. That’s not a failure. That’s potential.”
“Potential for disaster,” I muttered.
“Or power,” she countered. “Depends who guides it.”
Her hands squeezed mine once before she withdrew. Her voice dropped to a rhythmic whisper. “Breathe. In and out. Slow. Let your thoughts settle. Let the smoke carry them. Let the silence speak.”
Silence. I didn’t remember the last time silence hadn’t frightened me. But I tried.
I inhaled again, deeper this time. The incense ghosted through my senses, warm and strange, grounding me. My heartbeat steadied. My shoulders lowered.
Vienne’s voice faded into the background.
The darkness behind my eyelids shifted.
Something… clicked.
Like a door. Like a boundary thinning.
My breathing stalled. “Vienne—”
“Keep going,” she murmured. “You’re close.”
A pulse moved through my skull, hot and electric. It wasn’t painful—just… different. Like someone brushing fingertips across the inside of my mind.
Then I heard it. Not a voice. A thought.
…She knows… find her… she will not slip again…
I gasped, eyes flying open. “Someone’s here—someone’s thinking—someone—”
Vienne grabbed my arm. “Soraya! Breathe. What did you hear?”
“I don’t know,” I said, trembling. “Voices—or not voices—echoes. Thoughts. They weren’t from here.”
“It’s your telepathy,” she said calmly. “You touched the stream.”
“The what?”
“Wolves with mind-gifts call it that—the stream of thoughts, instincts, and emotions that travel across the dunes. Most wolves don’t feel it except during battle or in mating bonds. But you?” She leaned forward. “You can hear it without anyone calling you.”
I swallowed hard. “That sounds dangerous.”
“It is,” she said honestly. “But also incredible.”
I shut my eyes again. Tentatively. Carefully.
The stream wasn’t a sound. It was a pressure—like the dunes shifting beneath a storm. A hum. A vibration. A whispering net cast across miles.
I let myself sink into it again.
Immediately, more fragments reached me.
…the girl lives…
…moon-marked…
…Zehrael… blood worth armies…
…full moon… retrieve her…
…Ashra will kneel…
…Zarek wills it…
The name hit me like ice.
I flinched so violently the incense bowl rattled.
Vienne grabbed my shoulders. “Soraya! What is it?”
“Zarek,” I whispered. My voice wasn’t my own. “I heard Zarek.”
Her face drained of color. “What did he say?”
I shook my head slowly, as if each word was too heavy. “He’s planning something. Soon. He said… ‘full moon.’ He said ‘retrieve her.’ He said Ashra will kneel.”
Vienne cursed under her breath. “Your telepathy is stronger than we thought if you’re hearing thoughts from across the border. That shouldn’t be possible.”
“It’s not possible,” I said, panic rising. “I shouldn’t hear him. I shouldn’t hear anyone.”
“It’s not your fault,” she snapped gently. “And it’s not evil. It’s control. You can learn to focus it.”
I covered my ears even though the noise wasn’t sound. “I don’t want to hear him. I don’t want him in my head.”
Vienne pulled my hands away. “Soraya. Look at me.”
I did.
“You’re not hearing him,” she said firmly. “You’re hearing the stream. And he is leaking into it because he’s furious, arrogant, and projecting power across miles like a fool who thinks the dunes bow to him.”
My breath trembled.
“You,” she continued, “are stronger. You’re the one touching the stream. Not him. So listen.”
I blinked. “Listen?”
She nodded. “You heard fragments. That means there’s more. You might be able to find something useful—timing, numbers, direction.”
My hands shook. “What if he feels me listening?”
Vienne hesitated. “He shouldn’t. Not unless he has the same gift. And even then, you’re shielded by distance. Mostly.”
“Mostly,” I echoed.
She squeezed my hand. “I won’t let anything happen. Try one more time.”
I didn’t want to.
But for Ashra… for myself… for the wolves preparing for war… I closed my eyes again.
The stream surged immediately. Louder. Sharper.
…prepare the riders…
…full moon…
…strike fast…
…she will kneel…
…she will be mine…
…mine…
…MI—
A scream burst through my skull.
I recoiled with a cry, clutching my head. Vienne grabbed me, pulling me back, grounding me with her scent and her hands pressed to my temples.
“Enough! Enough—pull out of it, Soraya! Come back!”
The stream snapped like a rope. Silence followed—heavy and final. I sagged forward, breath shaking.
Vienne held me until the trembling stopped. “That was too deep. You pushed too far.”
“He wants me,” I whispered. “More than I thought. More than I imagined. He’s coming.”
Vienne’s jaw tightened. “Then Raevan needs to know everything you heard.”
“I’m scared,” I admitted quietly.
She brushed my hair back. “Good. Be scared. But don’t be powerless.”
I exhaled slowly.
Through fear, through chaos, through the storm rising over Ashra… I felt something inside me awaken.