Elara
The night air was sharp, like a blade pressed against my skin. It carried the scent of iron and wet earth, heavy and restless, as though even the wind sensed something dark prowling in its depths. I stood near the balcony of my chamber, looking down into the courtyard below where Xavier’s warriors patrolled with heavier steps than usual. Their armor clinked softly, their breaths rose in faint clouds in the cold air, and the torch flames flickered angrily against the black sky.
Something was wrong. I could feel it in my bones. The Moonlight always whispered warnings to me in its silence, and tonight, the whispers screamed.
Olivia’s soft knock broke my stillness.
“Elara,” she said, her voice low, urgent. “May I enter?”
I turned quickly, heart pounding. Her face, when she stepped
