WNDR3566

Wings Without Memory

You wake inside a ring of frost-burned grass with no name, no past, and wings pressed flat against your back like locked doors — and a stranger is already crouching over you, his iron-tipped spear aimed at your throat. The mark on your wrist is glowing gold, and the exact same light is bleeding through the leather of his glove. Three days. That is all the forest gives you before the bond — and you — disappear forever.