Blood and moonlight
She stumbled toward what remained of the main hall — and there, in the center of the broken floor, a sigil shone faintly beneath the dust.
A spiral of moons.
An ancient mark of power.
Suddenly, pain seared across her left shoulder. Ava cried out, dropping to one knee, clutching the mark hidden beneath her skin.
Marcus was at her side instantly, steadying her. “It’s your bloodline,” he said fiercely.
“It’s answering. You’re waking up.”
The sigil on the ground pulsed once — and for a heartbeat, Ava saw visions flash across her mind:
Wolves howling under blood-red moons.