When the Moon Bleeds Red
The ceiling above shimmered with faint enchantments—twinkling stars embedded in glass and crystal that pulsed like a living night sky.
She trailed her fingers along the spines, marveling at the titles: The Lost Histories of Astira, The Blood of Forgotten Queens, Mystic Bonds and Magical Lineage, The Vaelthorne Chronicles…
That last one gave her pause.
She pulled it free and settled into the nearest high-backed chair, curling into its velvet seat like she belonged there.
For hours, Seraphine read. Some books were stories, others records of laws, others theories of old magic—names and places she had only heard whispered by old women in markets. And others still… felt oddly familiar, like piece