When Rhea finally fell asleep, the altar appeared in her dreams once more.
Only this time, she wasn’t a small child kneeling in the dirt. She was the flame burning at the very center of the stone.
Dark figures moved in a wide circle around her beneath the black pines. They were covered in ash and dried blood, chanting names in an ancient language she didn't know. The wind howled through the trees, and high above them, the stars went dark one by one, swallowed by a heavy shadow stretching across the sky.
When Rhea looked down, her hands were gone.
Thick, pale bone had snapped through her skin, curving into long claws.
Rhea sat up with a gasp, her heart pounding violently against her ribs.
Gray morning light filtered through the canvas of the tent. The camp was completely quiet. Most o
