The moon had always followed Aeloria.
It lingered outside her window longer than it should, spilling silver light across her wooden floor as though trying to whisper secrets only she could hear. On nights like this, sleep never came easily.
Aeloria rose from her bed and stepped closer to the window. The village of Lunareth slept quietly beneath her, rooftops glowing softly under the moon's gentle gaze. Everything looked peaceful—but her chest felt heavy, like something unseen was calling her name.
She pressed her fingers against the small crescent-shaped mark on her wrist.
It was warm.
Her breath caught.
The mark had never done that before.
Outside, the wind stirred, carrying a strange chill through the air. Somewhere beyond the forest—far beyond the borders of Lunareth—a pair of dark eyes opened.
Kael Raventhorn knelt in the shadows, his cloak fluttering behind him as the ancient symbol before him ignited with silver light.
"The Moonbound has awakened," he murmured.
And for the first time in sixteen years, the oath bound to his soul began to burn.
He rose to his feet, knowing one thing for certain.
Her life—and the fate of both realms—now rested in his hands.