The northern wind carried a chill that pierced the stone walls of Moonshadow Academy, rattling doors and whipping through the broken barrier like a warning.
Charlotte stood at the edge of the training grounds, her gaze fixed on the forest beyond the walls. The crimson symbol on the tree—the one that had mirrored the mark beneath her skin—still glowed faintly in the dim light of early dawn. Every pulse of the symbol sent a shiver through her, a reminder that the Shadowborn were watching, waiting.
She clenched her fists.
“They’re coming,” Jenna murmured beside her, voice tight with worry. “And I don’t think this time it’ll be just scouts.”
Charlotte didn’t respond. She had no answers, only questions—hundreds of them swirling inside her head like a storm she couldn’t contain. What was she
