Luna Ashwood dreamed of fire.
But this time, it wasn’t her burning.
It was her bloodline.
The manor.
The woods.
The town.
All swallowed in golden flame.
And standing in the center—him.
Calian.
Grinning.
Not from behind the mirror this time.
But standing free.
Real.
---
She jolted awake with a gasp, drenched in sweat.
Not magic sweat.
Real, uncomfortable, cursed-from-inside-and-out kind of sweat.
Saffy was at the foot of her bed holding a frying pan and a toothbrush.
“I knew you’d wake up from that,” she whispered. “You always wake up dramatic. Honestly, it’s your brand.”
Luna blinked. “Why the toothbrush?”
Saffy shrugged. “I panicked. Toothbrushes are comforting.”
---
Downstairs, the Ashwood manor was alive with quiet noise.
Knox was sharpening a blade. Again.
Lilit
