Bound moon
His guards—the elite Ashmoor vanguard—trailed behind him, their horses foaming at the mouth, their silver blades drawn.
I stepped onto the bridge of the delta, the silver light around me flaring to a blinding, protective dome.
Lucian skidded to a halt twenty feet away. The sight of him was enough to freeze the blood of the Unbound warriors behind me. He was breathing in jagged, wet gasps, his golden-amber eyes wide, darting toward me with a hunger that defied human logic.
"Serafine," he roared, the sound vibrating in the very marrow of my bones. "You do not walk away from your King."