The storm came without warning.By late afternoon, the sky over Mystic sharpened into steel.Not rain.Not thunder.Pressure.Like the air itself was holding its breath.Rowan was stocking new vials of moonwater behind the counter of Tidal Moon when her wrist prickled—static beneath her skin. Not pain.A pull.Something’s shifting, Windy murmured from her place beneath the hanging herbs.Her voice was calm, but her eyes were on the door.Rowan’s aunt stood near the conservatory entrance, one hand resting over her swollen belly as if listening for something beneath her skin. Pale light shimmered through her dress—faint at first, like moonlight through fog.Then brighter.Rowan froze. “Aunt?”The light pulsed again. Once.Twice.Her aunt’s breath hitched. “He… kicked. But it didn’t feel like a kick.”Her voice trembled with wonder—and fear. “It felt like he was reaching.”The lights in the shop flickered.Rowan didn’t move, afraid that if she breathed wrong, the moment might shatter int
Última actualización : 2025-12-11 Leer más