Bound moon
"Someone breached the eastern line. They’re not Blood Moon. They’re Ashmoor. And they're not carrying weapons."
I walked toward the entrance, my silver magic flaring to life. I expected to see Vincent’s men. I expected an execution squad.
Instead, standing in the center of the camp, surrounded by dozens of Unbound warriors with their blades drawn, was a single, hooded figure.
The figure stepped back, lowering the hood.
It was my sister, Diacina.
She looked thinner, her expensive silks replaced by the rugged, travel-worn leathers of a mercenary. Her hair, once perfectly pinned, was shorn short. She didn't look like the prize Alpha daughter who had fled the marriage pact. She looked like a sur