The war had erupted like a storm, furious and relentless, and it felt as if the earth itself trembled beneath the weight of it. Blood soaked the ground, the howl of battle filling the air like a symphony of death. Ryker’s loyalists clashed with the rogue-witch army, their swords drawn, claws bared, and magic swirling in the air like an uncontrollable force.
I stood at the front, my hands trembling around the hilt of my blade, trying to keep my breath steady. The prophecy had been clear about this moment—my moment—but I was no warrior. I wasn’t ready for this. Not to lead a war, not to make decisions that would decide the fate of so many.
But here I was.
“Focus, Nina,” Ryker’s voice cut through the chaos, his warm breath against my ear. I turned, meeting his steady gaze, and I saw it—his
