Rosemary
The air in Amber’s cottage was thick with the scent of dried herbs and the faint, acrid tang of burnt candle wax. The small space had become my sanctuary, my battleground, my prison. Almost every day since the battle, I had snuck away here to practice magic, to chip away at the overwhelming sense of helplessness that had taken root in my chest, the fear of Andromeda’s next move. And every day, I felt like I was clawing at the edges of something vast and incomprehensible, something I could barely grasp.
Today was no different. The grimoire lay open on the table in front of me, its inked pages whispering promises of power I wasn’t sure I wanted, and secrets I wasn’t sure I could handle. The words on the page shimmered faintly under the light of the single candle I’d lit. They puls
