124

Elena pov

The map of the northern range lay spread across the old war table like a canvas of secrets. I had studied it for hours, my eyes scanning every mountain path, every faded rune and mark from a time before mine. The ink had worn thin in places, curling at the edges from the cold creeping into the room. I should have been resting.

But sleep never came easily.

Not with moirea in my blood.

I had seen this mad a thousand times growing up. Heck, I could even draw it with my eyes closed.

I traced the curve of a ridge near the top of the map, Lupin’s Teeth, they called it. A jagged line of mountains known for deadly winds and unstable cliffs. No one dared go past them unless they had a death wish or something to prove.

But my fingers kept drifting there. Something about the space between those peaks pulled at me like gravity.

My head dipped forward. The warmth from the small fire in the hearth and the steady rhythm of my own breath blurred the map beneath me. My vis