Elena’s POV
The moon watched me like a silent judge.
High above the Hollow, it hung blood-red and swollen, draping the forest in a bruised crimson glow. My skin prickled under its gaze, as if the magic tethered deep within the land was pressing against my own, testing it, drawing it out.
Lucien had fallen asleep a few feet away, one arm draped over his eyes, the other still outstretched toward where I had been lying just moments ago.
I couldn’t sleep.
Not when war was so close I could feel it in my marrow.
Not when I knew the Hollow was listening.
I rose from the makeshift bedding and padded barefoot across the damp grass. The wind caught the hem of my robe, tugging it like an impatient child as I moved deeper into the clearing. Every tree, every rock, every twisted root was etched
