The Crescent Heir
"Crescent versus Mooncrest — it'll be the world against one."
Romulus stared at him a long moment, then nearly laughed outright, like Deimon were a child boasting about something that could never actually happen, something built entirely of pride and nothing else.
"But there's a way out. A ticket that'll boost your odds of winning to ninety-nine percent."
Deimon looked at him with a fresh, sharper brand of surprise, every muscle in his face going still, the fury momentarily forgotten in favor of something far more dangerous — hope.
"Master Deimon Ashworth." Romulus said slowly, savoring every syllable like it was the last card in a winning hand. "Have you ever heard of the White Witch?"