Damon’s POV

As I entered the Moon Priestess’s chamber, the air was thick with incense and an ancient presence.

Candles flickered along the walls, their flames bending as if stirred by an unseen force. I felt the weight of what was happening and what had been unleashed.

“Damon Winchester,” the Moon Priestess said softly, looking up from her herbal cleansing bowl. Her dark eyes held wisdom and fear. “You carry a storm’s weight.”

I stepped closer, my boots clanging softly ...