Magnus's POV Her pale face was flushed rose-red, her eyes bright and unfocused, her lips soft and glossy-blooming like a wildflower fed by moonlight. Aysel turned toward me without warning and gave me a radiant, utterly defenseless smile-so bright it cut through the Shadowbane night like a blade of light. For a heartbeat, I froze. Then her slender arms looped around my neck. "Smack-" The loud kiss echoed in the quiet, riverside dark-the kind of stillness only wolves with heightened senses could feel humming beneath their skin. Aysel giggled against my throat, her breath warm, her scent-moon-soft and sweet-coiling around my senses. "Magnus... good wolf." My gaze deepened, instincts stirring. "If I'm a good wolf, you kiss me whenever you like?" But logic meant nothing to someone half-drunk, half-wolf, and completely unguarded. "Smack." Another kiss, on the other side of my face. Her chin dropped onto my chest, those bright eyes sparkling with mischief. "Magnus... do you want to see me dance?" My arm tightened around her waist; I lifted a brow. "You said last time you'd prepare properly." Her eyes went blank for a moment. "Hmm?" Then she nodded-convincing only herself. "Doesn't matter. I want to dance. I'll dance now." And as the only audience, I was stripped of the right to refuse. Still amused by how dazed she was yet somehow remembered music, I watched her fumble with my phone for far too long before she finally found the right button. She wasn't drunk enough to collapse. When she rose, she swayed once... then steadied.Her heels were kicked aside; she padded barefoot three meters away, stopping right at the river's edge. Behind her stretched the vast water, and across it the city burned bright-colorful lights painting the skyline. Aysel stood in that glow, her black dress swirling around her calves, and began to dance. Her beauty sharpened. Her movements flowed. Every step, every breath, was poetry written with her body. She danced Tide rises-the full version. The same piece Celestine Ward had once stolen fragments from. I heard that the first time Giovanna saw Aysel was years ago, during a lecture she'd given at a middle school. A quiet afternoon, a sunlit dance room-Aysel, still delicate, still young, moving silently yet fiercely. "Tide rises" had already taken shape then. There are creatures in the sea who live by the tide-born when it rises, dying when it falls. Their fleeting lives swallowed by the endless, merciless ocean, they struggle, refuse, break, bloom in agony. Giovanna had never expected a girl so young to wrestle with the idea of life and death. But Aysel's talent was overwhelming. Touched by it, Giovanna had guided her privately many times-until she found herself wanting to claim Aysel as her disciple. Tide Rises was their first, and only, collaboration. If it had debuted back then, Giovanna believed it would have rivaled, even surpassed, Chasing the Wind. The emotions inside it were too full, too heavy-heavy enough to make any onlooker cry. And tonight, years later, I was its sole witness. I didn't know which part Celestine Ward had stolen, but I could say with certainty that whatever she stole wasn't even one-ten-thousandth of the original's soul. Aysel moved as though she truly rose with the tide, died with its fall-struggling through despair, tearing through invisible chains, blooming wildly in the dark before collapsing just as violently.My wolf, Rafe, went still and silent. My gaze followed her, deep, black, unblinking. Tide Rises was named for life, yet its ending was death. Her swirling dress gradually lost height. Wind brushed over her. A serene, relieved smile bloomed across her face as she looked upward at the sky. As if her life had run its course. She opened her hands... and let herself fall. Back toward the "sea." Straight into darkness. I moved before the dress even touched the air. My hands caught her-warm, solid, unwavering.