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The night sky bled.
Above the world hung the moon, swollen and veined with crimson, its silver light drowned beneath a tide of red. It was not just color—it pulsed like a wound, every beat of its glow pressing against the skin, the lungs, the heart.
Aria stood at the stronghold’s battlements, her breath frosting in the cool air. Her hands gripped the stone until her knuckles ached, but it did nothing to stop the trembling that rolled through her.
Because the bond was alive tonight.
Every pulse of the moon echoed through her chest, silver fire coursing in her veins, pulling her toward Kael like gravity. She could feel his fury, his restraint, his hunger for battle, and—buried deep beneath—the unspoken fear he tried to keep hidden from everyone but her.
The Red Moon had risen.
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