The courtyard still hummed with the memory of battle. The echoes of Arthur’s promise—This isn’t over, Luna. When the moon wanes, I will return—and you will break—clung to the night like smoke that would not clear. Even as silence settled, unease pressed against every heart.
Ivy stood amid the broken altar, silver fire flickering faintly along her fur before fading into exhaustion. Selra paced inside her mind, restless, growling at shadows only she could sense. We should have ended him when we had the chance. The moon gave us the moment, Ivy. Why did you let him slip away?
Her chest heaved with weariness. Her wounds, though closed by moonlight, still throbbed with a dull ache. She could still feel Arthur’s claws dragging fire across her flesh, still taste his blood on her tongue. The memo
