The Moonfire Summit was just three days away.
Inside the Moonstone Packhouse, Evelyn stood by the window of her private chamber, her hands resting on the cool windowsill as she watched the moon rise over the distant mountains. A silver mist curled through the trees, cloaking the land in an eerie stillness that mirrored the unrest inside her.
Everything was coming to a head.
The alliance, the threat of war, the prophecy… and her heart.
A knock sounded at the door. “Come in,” she called softly.
Ronan stepped in, his presence calm yet commanding. The torches in the hallway cast a faint glow over his features, highlighting the deep shadows beneath his eyes. He hadn’t been sleeping much either.
He didn’t speak at first. He simply walked to her side, following her gaze into the distance.
