The darkness outside the shattered window doesn't move like a cloud, or a wing, or anything I have a name for.
It simply is, vast and silent, swallowing the moon whole, and the chapel's containment ward flickers in response, its steady golden light stuttering like a candle caught in a draft.
"What is that?" Selene whispers.
"I don't know," the captain admits, and for the first time all night, real uncertainty cracks through his composure. He glances toward the window, then back toward Selene's mother, some silent question passing between them that neither answers aloud.
"You said your employer sends her regards," Jodan says, voice low and dangerous. "I'd start explaining exactly who that is, and quickly."
"I only take orders," the captain says. "I was never given a name."
"Convenient
