The moon bled crimson above the treetops, staining the sky with fire. The air was thick with it—fate. You could taste it in your teeth like iron. I stood at the edge of the ceremonial circle, the ancient runes around it pulsing faintly under the moonlight. Everything in me screamed to run, to fight, to break apart the threads binding this moment together. But I didn’t move. Not yet.
I stared at the dagger in my hand. The hilt was worn smooth with time, silver-plated with an obsidian wolf carved into the guard. It belonged to her.
Ryker's voice was soft behind me. “It was my mother’s. She carried it into battle the day she became Luna. She never let anyone else touch it.”
I turned, holding it up between us. “And now you’re giving it to me?”
“She would’ve wanted you to have it.” He stepp
