BRENT'S POV
THE OUTSKIRTS OF THE NORTHERN BORDERS
The dim glow of the fire flickered across the cracked walls, its warmth doing little to ease the tension coiling in my chest. I lifted the glass to my lips, welcoming the slow burn as the liquor slid down my throat.
I needed the distraction.
But it didn’t work.
My thoughts kept circling back to the Moon Festival. To the reason I went in the first place, to get a closer look at the ‘legend’, the one whispered about for centuries. I was meant to be gathering information, keeping a low profile, but instead, I got distracted.
By her.
I exhaled sharply, setting the glass down with more force than necessary.
No.
I refused to acknowledge it.
Still, her image pressed against the edges of my mind, refusing to be buried.
H
