Ivy’s POV
"Ivy, we need to move—now," Kian urged, his voice tense as we hurried down the deserted side street. The ominous symbol—the crescent moon dripping with blood—that had marred my apartment still burned in my mind. Every step I took echoed with foreboding, and my heart pounded as if warning me of imminent danger.
I glanced over my shoulder, catching Kian’s determined gaze. "What did you find, Kian? What does that symbol mean?"
Kian stopped abruptly under the flickering light of a streetlamp, his eyes scanning the darkness as though expecting an answer from the night itself. "That symbol isn’t random, Ivy," he said, his tone low and urgent. "It belongs to a secret cult—a cult that serves the prophecy."
My breath hitched as I tried to process his words. "A cult? Serving the prophe
