The Hollow Moon pulsed above the ruins like a silent heartbeat.
Silver light washed over the valley, soft yet unsettling, shifting like something alive.
I couldn’t sleep.
Not because of the power burning beneath my skin. Not because of the packs whispering prayers and fears in equal measure.
But because the Hollow kept calling my name.
Aria…
The whisper threaded through the air like a breath.
Soft and Familiar.
It didn’t sound like the Moon Mother.
It sounded like me.
I stepped out into the night, the temple’s cold stones glowing faintly beneath my bare feet. Shadows followed, swirling loyally around my ankles. The wind carried no scent, no warmth only that rising hum of power threading through the dark.
Ronan had fallen asleep by the archway, wrapped in exhaustion after days of
