The night after the Blood Moon Trial was a strange, suspended thing.
Not silent. Not calm.
Just still.
Rhea sat at the base of the Pale Tree, her body throbbed with bone-deep ache.
The silver-white runes on her arms had settled beneath her skin, like a quiet secondary pulse.
She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply.
For the first time since the vault had opened, the voices in her head were silent.
Lucci sat across from her on an overturned root, absently tossing a smooth river stone from hand to hand. His dark eyes flicked to her face every few seconds, his body tense, pretending he wasn't tracking her every breath.
"Say it," Rhea said quietly.
Lucci raised an eyebrow, the stone catching mid-air. "Say what?"
"You've been looking at me for the past twenty minutes like I'm about to
