The Stand-In Luna
I approached it carefully.
It was a bracelet. A cuff made of what looked like braided starlight and bone. Its design was elegant, intricate, with a tiny symbol etched in its center: an open eye surrounded by flames. The same symbol that had appeared in my dream weeks ago.
My breath hitched; I didn’t want to touch it, and I didn’t want to be chosen for another destiny, but my hand moved anyway.
The moment my fingers brushed the bracelet, the vine retracted with a whip-like snap, and the cuff latched around my wrist like it had always belonged there. It didn’t hurt, but it was warm, almost uncomfortably so, and a soft glow pulsed from the etched eye.
Bab Populer