The moonlight poured through the cracked windows of the abandoned chapel, bathing the blood-stained stones in silver. The air shimmered faintly from the battle’s aftermath—traces of Seraphine’s dark magic clung to the ruins like smoke after a fire. Burn marks marred the cracked pillars, and the scent of scorched air lingered heavy in the lungs.
Ari sat slumped against the far wall, her chest rising and falling in shallow pants. The cold seeped into her bones, but the fire of adrenaline had not yet faded. She winced as she pressed a trembling hand to her ribs, sticky with blood and bruises. Her other hand curled into the stone beneath her as she fought the urge to collapse completely.
Celeste knelt beside her, her sharp eyes darting across Ari’s frame. “You’re hurt.”
“I’m okay,” Ari whis
