Beneath the Moon
Channary’s world began to blur, the vibrant colors and sounds of the festival swirling into a dizzying whirl around her. She blinked, clutching her forehead, but the haze only thickened, pressing in until she could barely tell up from down. Heart pounding, she fought to keep her eyes open, to stay steady. The strange, tingling sensation coursing through her wasn’t what she had been expecting from the Unity Cup. This was supposed to be an ancient, almost sacred experience, a rite of the Blood-Moon—so why did her mind feel like it was wrapped in fog?
Bab Populer