The treeline explodes with sound - howls that don't belong to any voice you know. Tristan's hand hits your shoulder before you even process the noise, shoving you backward into stone and shadow. No warning. No explanation. Just the rough pressure of his palm and the dark swallowing you whole. The cavern air is cold and smells of iron and something older - something that shouldn't be underground. Outside, branches snap under boots that aren't your pack's. Your childhood rival posts himself at the entrance like a wall, jaw tight, eyes scanning the dark tree line. He hasn't looked at you once. Deep in the cavern behind you, something shifts. And from the dark, a voice speaks your name - one you've never told anyone here.