Emily Rosewood’s Point of View.
The ruined Temple of the First Flame – the night the world discovered it had three daughters instead of one
The chamber beneath the ruined Temple of the First Flame trembled with a silent tension, thick as smoke and cold as moonless water. I stood at the edge of the shadowed pit, my breath caught in my throat. The iron scent of old blood clung to the air, mingling with something far more ancient—something wrong.
Lyra stood beside me, pale and silent, one hand gripping her blade though her eyes remained fixed on the black cocoon suspended by fettered chains over the abyss.
It pulsed.
Not with life. Not yet. But with a rhythm—like a heartbeat straining to remember it was once part of something whole.
“This is where they kept it?” I whispered.
Lyra turne
