Chapter Twenty-Five
The Harbinger’s Hand
The blood moon faded slowly, as if reluctant to leave the sky.
Its crimson glow lingered on the leaves of the Hollow, casting everything in a rusted hue. Lyra sat in the aftermath of the ritual, legs folded beneath her, Kael beside her—silent, alive, bound. The Ashbound Book had closed itself, the glowing runes now dark.
For the first time in weeks, her heartbeat wasn’t trying to claw its way out of her chest.
But peace was a fragile thing.
And it didn’t last long.
A howl ripped through the mountains.
Not a call for aid.
A warning.
Lyra and Kael were already on their feet, blades strapped, cloaks flying as they sprinted from the sacred hilltop down into the Hollow.
Wolves were shifting mid-run. Warriors roused from sleep. Veyra emerged fr
