The first light of dawn crept through the shattered roof of the temple, spilling across the cold stone like a quiet blessing. The battle was long over, but the silence that followed felt heavier than any roar or scream that had come before.

Selene sat where she had been since she woke, on the blood-stained floor beside Darius’s still body. The air was cold and smelled of ash and old magic. Her white dress was stiff with dried blood, her hands trembling where they rested against his unmoving ...