The scent of blood and spirit ash still lingered in the air, thick and metallic. Aria stood in the aftermath of the shattered ritual chamber, her heart hammering like a war drum. The sky above the ruins of the Seer's Temple had turned an unnatural shade of silver, the moon hanging low like a judge waiting to pass verdict.
Caleb was kneeling beside the circle's remnants, sweat glistening on his brow, his hand clutching the crescent-shaped scar that had begun to glow again. Across from him, Rowan paced like a caged animal, glancing between the fractured seal stone and the horizon where shadows rippled like disturbed water.
Aria barely breathed.
"What just happened?" she asked, her voice hoarse.
Rowan turned to her, his jaw clenched. "The seal is broken," he said. "Not entirely, but cracked enough. Something's coming."
