The forest surrounding Bloodstone was alive with the hum of early summer — the scent of wet moss and blooming hawthorn hanging heavy in the air. A faint mist rolled along the riverbank, curling like breath from the mouths of unseen spirits. Crystal stood at the edge of the glade, one hand resting protectively over the slight curve of her belly. She had not slept well since the dream.
Every time she closed her eyes, she saw flashes of the same vision: a world split by flame, the sky veined with crimson, and shadows wearing the faces of the dead. She had woken to Dustin’s arms around her, his heartbeat steady against her spine — but even his warmth hadn’t been enough to still the pulse of dread echoing through her chest.
Now, with the sun barely cresting the horizon, she waited for Seraphi
