Isla's POV
I looked at the book and was shocked at what I saw. The handwriting was old but still bold.
My fingers traced the curve of the letters almost without my consent, and the more I read, the heavier my chest became. Whole pages were filled with names, symbols, and passages scratched with warnings that weren’t meant to be decorative, they were meant to terrify.
There were drawings too, wolves standing over dead bodies, circles of fire etched around figures kneeling, and long, spiraling marks that looked like seals.
But it wasn’t the drawings that made my throat tighten. It was the mention of a name I recognized, written again and again like it had been branded into the parchment. Blackwood.
The words that followed spoke of bloodlines cursed and preserved, of a cure buried so d
