Arthur’s POV
The man Ash brought into the clearing looked like he had been carved from old scars and older grudges.
Thorn.
Once a revered Lunar Descendant.
Once a guardian of the Veil.
Once a man who challenged the moon itself—
—and survived.
Barely.
His eyes, pale silver like fractured ice, swept across the clearing, taking in the scorch marks, the shattered bark, the runes still glowing faintly beneath the soil. But when they landed on me, something colder than hostility flickered there.
Recognition.
Rage.
And a grudge that hadn’t dulled in the years between us.
“You look worse than the last time I saw you,” Thorn rasped, voice rough like crushed stone.
“You look like you died and forgot to stay down,” I shot back.
His smirk was humorless. “I did.”
Ash stepped between us b
