CIARA'S POV
"Your daughter has always been a little bit special."
Silver light danced across Selene's face as my lips parted to question her, but the words died in my throat. The marble altar beneath my feet dissolved.
Dappled sunlight warmed my skin. The scent of wildflowers and damp earth filled my lungs. A garden sprawled before me—not the manicured beds of my estate, but something wilder, freer.
A child crouched near a flowering bush, dark curls falling across her face. Her shoulders trembled.
Erin.
My heart stuttered. She couldn't have been older than five, her face still round with baby fat, her tiny hands cupped around something.
"I didn't mean to scare you," she whispered, tears tracking down her cheeks and dripping onto a small sparrow with a twisted leg. "Don't die. Pleas
