"I can feel its power," I whisper, eyes fixed on the ancient weapon before us. The cold stone beneath my feet trembles as if the very earth is aware of what we're about to unleash. The weapon—an enormous, intricately carved staff—glows faintly, its runes pulsing with an energy that is both intoxicating and terrifying.
Damian stands beside me, his expression unreadable as always, but there's something different in his eyes tonight. A flicker of something—perhaps fear, perhaps recognition—clouds the usual calm in his gaze.
"You've always been about power, haven’t you, Lyra? But true strength comes from what you’re willing to give up, not what you’re willing to take," Damian warns, his voice laced with concern.
I glance at him, frustration bubbling up inside me. "You think I don’t know tha
