Crimson skies cast a lurid glow over the battered forest, the air heavy with ash and the lingering roar of distant battles. Aria stood at the edge of a crumbling ridgeline, trembling with exhaustion and the echo of her mother’s raw power. Every breath tasted of blood-tinged smoke, a bitter reminder of the chaos unleashed by the Eclipse.
Then she sensed him—footsteps crunching over charred leaves. She spun, claws half-sprung, only to pause at the sight of a rogue who approached with hands raised, a faint smirk on his lips. Tall and muscular, with a hungry glint in his eyes, he radiated the same charged desperation coursing through Aria’s veins.
“You’re the Crimson Heir,” he murmured, voice low. “Heard the stories, but seeing you up close… guess they weren’t exaggerating.”
Aria’s chest ti
