The dark forest was unnervingly silent, the usual chorus of crickets and nocturnal predators silenced by the heavy, suffocating pressure of the red moon. Rowan stood in the center of a clearing, the ancient crystal pulsing in his palm like a living heart. The violet light it emitted cast long, distorted shadows against the gnarled trees, making the entire world look like a scene from a fever dream.
"Yes... finally," a voice purred from the darkness. "You are doing exactly what you were meant to do. Destroy the others... let the supernatural rot so that we may finally emerge from the filth."
Rowan didn't flinch. He slowly turned around, his expression unreadable, to see the figure of Isla stepping out from behind a massive oak. But it wasn't Isla. The way she moved was too fluid, too pred
