The first horn sent chills down her spine. The second felt unreal—like something out of a nightmare. The third? That one shattered her. Whatever hope she had left flickered and died.
Its call thundered through the mountains—ancient, primal. It shook the oracle’s stone sanctuary and made the fire stutter in the hearth. Nyra couldn’t move. She just stood there, hands shaking, a letter from her mother clutched tight.
She’d only managed the first line. That was enough. Anything more felt impossible. Too much had crashed down on her in just one long, terrible night.
She thought she’d come for answers. Instead, she’d found her whole life wasn’t her own. Not really. Princess. Stolen child. Some lost bloodline. Parents gone before she knew their faces. A kingdom that grieved a baby too young to
