Winter’s POV

They would hear my screams. They would hear the pain tear out of me, raw and endless, until it cut off too suddenly. They would imagine my skin blistering, my bones blackening, my body reduced to ash before it ever hit the ground.

And the cave would give them nothing back.

Nobody. No proof. Only fire.

Winter, Luna of Moonveil, gone to the flames like the women before her.

Dead.

And finally free.

Staring out at the balcony as dawn bled into the sky, my heart raced so hard I ...