Brooks' POV
Brooks leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, watching Nyx as she pored over yet another ancient tome. The flickering candlelight cast eerie shadows over her sharp features, making her look almost otherworldly—untouchable.
But he knew better.
Nyx wasn't just beautiful. She was brilliant, unyielding, and more determined than any wolf he'd ever met.
And right now?
She was desperate.
She had spent hours in this room, flipping through pages, scanning symbols most wolves would never dare look at, diving into the deepest, darkest corners of magic for a way to save Opal.
His chest tightened.
She was doing this for them.
For Opal.
For his family.
For him.
Brooks exhaled, stepping deeper into the room. "You've been at this for hours."
Nyx didn't look up. "Because we don't have time to waste."
His jaw tightened. He hated this.
Hated seeing her exhausted, her amber eyes shadowed with strain.
