POV: Rissa

Behind us, the forest was loud with the wind howling, branches groaning, and a shadow chasing us like teeth grinding against bone in the dark.

We burst into a clearing without warning. The air turned sharp, brushing cold against our skin. Around us, black stones formed a perfect circle. Moss clung to them, damp and green, while faint runes lit up across their surface, each one flickering in time, like a slow, steady heartbeat.

Eamon slid to a stop at the center. One knee hit the ...