The Crimson Ridge was still reeling from the aftermath of the Forgotten God’s defeat. While Elizabeth bore the crown of High Flame Queen with a steady hand, a subtle unease brewed beneath the surface. Something old still stirred.
The night air was thick with the scent of ash and frost as Elizabeth stood on the balcony of the Moonspire Keep. Her golden wolf shimmered just beneath her skin, restless and alert. Solbrand rested against the wall beside her, glowing faintly, never entirely dormant after it had pierced the god’s heart.
Behind her, Lucian approached. His presence warmed her, grounding the volatile magic still humming through her veins.
"You're not sleeping again," he murmured.
She didn’t look at him. “The moon feels wrong tonight.”
Lucian’s jaw tensed. “It’s red. That hasn’t
