The air in the clearing was thick with tension. The battle had ended, but its echoes still lingered. The Lunar Order had retreated, but not in defeat—they were regrouping, waiting for the full moon to strike again.
Alyssa sheathed her dagger, her fingers still tingling from the clash with the High Priestess. She had landed a hit, but it wasn’t enough. They needed more—more power, more allies, more time. But time was the one thing they didn’t have.
Kade stood beside her, his golden eyes scanning the treetops. His wounds from the fight were already healing, but his expression was grim. “We need to move,” he said. “They’ll be back.”
Lucian wiped his blade clean on a fallen soldier’s cloak before slipping it back into its sheath. “So what’s the plan? Wait for the moon and hope for the best?
