Chapter 12. The Grey Between

Aeryn’s pulse stuttered. She slipped past Sera before the other girl could reach for her, moving through the dormitory, across the kitchen corridor still faintly scented with salt and smoke, into the open yard.

The trainees had frozen in place. Their drill instructor stood silent, baton halted in midair. Beyond the main gate, alone on the damp flagstones, stood Elric. His frame looked too still, too distant—his coat stiff at the shoulders, boots too pristine for the muddy road behind him. When he raised his hand, it was not a greeting but a pale salute of warning. Then he turned and walked away, the gate swinging shut with a hollow click.

Aeryn did not follow. She only felt a chill slide down her spine and the familiar warmth bloom again in her palm, reminding her that some doors, once opened, can never be closed.

The nursery gates had never closed with such silent finality. Not since the first time Aeryn saw them—tall, iron-rimmed bars scarred by rust so deep it l