The blood moon hung low and crimson, bathing the forest in an eerie red glow. The air felt thicker, charged—like the world itself was holding its breath.
Lina stood at the edge of the clearing Elara had prepared. A perfect circle of silver dust marked the ritual ground, candles flickering at each cardinal point. The dagger lay on a flat stone in the center, its blade catching the moon’s bloody light.
Zane paced just outside the circle, shirtless, the cursed mark on his arm pulsing faintly in time with his heartbeat. Sweat glistened on his skin despite the cold night. The pull of the moon was stronger tonight—almost unbearable.
Elara checked the herbs one last time, then looked at them both. “This is it. Once we start, there’s no stopping. The curse will fight back hard. Lina, your blood
