The cold wind howled through the forest as Grace Hart followed the silver light of the moon.
The vision she had seen moments earlier still burned in her mind. The ancient voice, the glowing symbols, and the warning echoed repeatedly inside her head.
"The truth is buried beneath the Moon Temple."
She tightened her grip on her cloak and glanced beside her. Damon walked silently, his sharp eyes scanning the darkness around them.
Neither of them spoke for several minutes.
The forest felt different tonight.
Alive.
Watching.
Finally, Damon broke the silence.
"You haven't said a word since the vision."
Grace swallowed.
"I'm trying to understand what it means."
Damon's jaw tightened.
"I don't like it."
"You don't like anything involving ancient prophecies."
"Because ancient propheci
