*Chapter 43:
ALESSIA
Dusk hit BloodNight like a held breath finally breaking, and the sky bled out orange and purple over the walls in a way that felt too deliberate to be natural, as if the world itself knew what was about to be asked of it and was bracing for the cost. The wards along the border were already humming under my skin, vibrating up through the soles of my boots and into the mark on my arm until I couldn’t tell where the ward ended and began, the courtyard of the packhouse was empty except for us, which made the silence feel heavier than any crowd ever could.
Blackwell had drawn the circle in salt and ash with hands that didn’t shake even though his face was lined with exhaustion, and the cracked anchor sat at the center with a light that was dim but stubborn, refusing to
