By midnight, the forest no longer looked the same.
The trees stood still, as if holding their breath. The wind, which had once whispered, had vanished entirely. Even the ever-present thrum of distant animals had quieted.
Seraphira felt it first in her chest a pressure, faint and strange. Not pain. Not fear. But something deeper, older, rising like smoke from a long-dead fire.
She climbed a narrow ridge that overlooked the treetops. And there, hanging above the horizon, she saw it.
The moon had turned to ash.
No silver.
No glow.
Only a pale, gray disc cloaked in cloud and soot, like the sky itself was mourning.
And beneath that cursed light, her mark burned again.
She pulled back her sleeve the ashmark now pulsed visibly with every heartbeat, its spiral growing darker, more defined.
Then came the sound.
Not from the trees.
Not from the wind.
But from beneath the earth.
A low hum. A vibration. As though something below the surface had stirred something massive and not entirely awake.
She knelt, palm to soil.
And the hum grew louder.
Thrum…
Thrum…
Thrum…
Suddenly, her mind was filled with images not her memories, not her thoughts. Something else.
A throne carved of fire and shadow.
A city of bone beneath blackened skies.
And eyes golden, molten, ancient opening in the dark.
Seraphira yanked her hand away and stumbled back, heart racing.
What was that?
What force beneath the Veil had reached for her?
Was it the fire in her blood awakening? Or something calling to it?
She didn't know.
But she did know this: the world was no longer quiet.
Somewhere behind her, branches snapped quick and purposeful.
She turned, dagger in hand.
And out of the shadows stepped one of the Hollow Riders.
But this one… removed its mask.
Beneath the bone-white wood was a face—young, sharp, and very much alive.
Human.
"Do not scream," he said calmly. "I came ahead of the others."
She did not scream. But her blade stayed raised.
Who are you? she demanded.
"A scout," he said. "From the realm beneath."
Her breath caught. "The Underworld?"
He nodded. "The Hollow Hunt rides tonight. But you… you were marked long ago. He has seen it. And now, he remembers."
Who?
The man stepped closer, and the wind shifted.
"The one beneath the ash moon."
"The Devil King."