ASHES OF THE LUNA QUEEN
But before the strike landed, a smaller voice cut through the night.
“Mama.”
The word was not screamed. Not sobbed. It was whispered. Liora lifted her tiny hand, her eyes glowing faintly, not gold, not silver, but something softer, something human and pure.
“Mama, stop. Please. Come back to me.”
The flames cracked. The goddess’ arm trembled midair. Her crown flickered. For the first time, her expression faltered, her lips curling, not in triumph, not in rage, but something closer to pain.
الفصول الرائجة