Chapter 93
Cameron
I sit on a rough, weather-worn log at the edge of a wide, barren patch of ground. The soil here is the color of rust—red-brown, dry, and lifeless.
It's odd. The forest around us is full of life, lush grass and wildflowers fighting for space. But this circle? Nothing. Not a single blade of green dares creep in. The silence here feels heavy, like the ground itself is holding its breath.
Lenora drops into my lap without hesitation, fitting there like she was made for it. Her hair brushes my jaw as she leans back against me.
"It's changed color," she says softly, running her fingers through the sandy grit. "Because for as long as White Stone has stood, they've had death matches here. They say the dirt itself soaked in all the blood, and that's why nothing grows anymore."
I glance down at my boots half-buried in the strange soil, my arms tightening around her waist. "Now I feel weird," I mutter, forcing a crooked grin to mask the unease slithering up my spine.
