The night trembled under the blood moon's glare.

Aria stood barefoot at the edge of the forest clearing, the silver of her crown dulled by ash and old magic. The Circle stood behind her, tense and ready, but silent—watching. The visions had faded, but the lingering burn of what she'd seen wouldn’t leave her skin. Mara’s whisper still coiled in her ear, and Caleb’s final scream echoed like a ghost.

The shadows moved unnaturally tonight.

Beside her, Rowan approached carefully, his jaw ...