Damon
The clearing was already alive by the time I arrived—drums low and steady, a heartbeat in the dark. The full moon loomed high above it all, massive and pale, soaking the forest in silver.
Tradition.
I’d hated this place for years. At thirteen, Asher’s father had made me spar with some minor noble’s son in this same place. I hadn’t known my own strength then and didn’t meant to kill him. I carried that guilt with me still.
The place had changed since then.
The ceremonial clearing at the edge of the royal forest had been used for generations—until I changed it.
Too rooted in the past, too bound by meaningless spectacle and politics that wore the skin of ritual. I'd moved the Equinox celebrations to the palace terraces years ago—clean, contained, controlled.
But tonight,
