Thomas's POV
My fingers ache like hell as I flip through another ancient text. The damn arthritis is getting worse every day, making even the simple act of turning pages feel like I'm wrestling with barbed wire. But these ceremonies have to be done right. No shortcuts, no half-assed attempts.
"Luna Ascension protocols," I mutter, squinting at the faded ink. "Section twelve, subsection four..."
The words blur together for a moment, and I have to blink hard to focus. Getting old sucks. There's no polite way to put it.
A soft knock interrupts my concentration. "Come in."
Sarah steps through the door, and immediately I know something's wrong. The girl looks like she's seen a ghost. Her hands are shaking, and she keeps glancing over her shoulder like someone might be following her.
"Sarah
