I barely slept that night. Again.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw them.
The cloaked ones.
The Forgotten.
The way they tore through our borders was like they were nothing but stitched fabric. The way their shadows didn’t move like shadows should. The way they looked at me—like they knew me. Like they had waited centuries for me to simply exist.
I lay in bed long after the moon had sunk beneath the trees, staring up at the ceiling, counting the cracks all around the room. Trying to breathe. Trying not to let the panic crawl under my skin.
But it did anyway.
And when the first blush of morning sunlight touched the edge of the window, I finally sat up, my heart pounding as if it had been racing all night.
That’s when I felt her.
Sierra.
Not in the usual way—not a quiet presence lu
