POV: Nyxara
The murals seemed to burn themselves into my vision. Moon Blessed wolves devouring the hearts of their own kind. Drinking celestial blood like wine. Growing stronger with each murder.
"Cannibalism," I whispered, the word tasting like poison. "They ate each other."
The Vakros circled us, their red eyes gleaming with ancient knowledge. The largest one, the one who'd been speaking in my mind, moved closer.
Not just cannibalism, Moon child. Apotheosis. Transcendence. Your ancestors discovered that consuming Moon Blessed flesh granted power beyond measure. Its voice dripped with dark satisfaction. They hunted their own kind like animals. Fed on their hearts while still beating. Drank their blood under full moons.
My stomach heaved. "Why? Why would they do that?"
Because power
