The Moonfall Plains breathe like a living thing.
Wind rolls across the tall grass in low, whispering waves. Banners snap. Smoke from the covens' circles coils into the sky like dark, searching fingers. Hundreds, no, thousands, of eyes follow my every step as I move toward the center of the plains.
I can feel them all.
Fear. Curiosity. Hunger. Hope.
My Mark glows beneath my skin, a steady, defiant gold that refuses to dim no matter how many shadows gather around it.
Kade walks at my side.
Not in front.
Not behind.
Beside.
The bond hums between us, not loud, not commanding, just there, like a shared breath.
At the center of the plains, the High Council waits in a wide semicircle of carved stone seats, ancient sigils glowing faintly beneath their feet. Their robes ripple with quiet power, threads woven with old magic meant to remind the world who has always been in control.
Seraphina stands just to their right.
My sister looks like she belongs there.
