Reclaiming My Broken Luna
He collapsed, lifeless, before he could say another word.
“Poison,” Nova whispered, her voice tight with anger. “They’re sending us messages and killing themselves before we can get anything useful. They’re playing with us.”
I knelt beside the body, my hands shaking with barely controlled rage. The Silvermoon blade was real—it wasn’t just a trick. The rogue had stolen it or been given it, and either option was damning.
“We need to bring this to Killian,” Nova said, her voice softer now, as if she sensed my internal storm.
Bab Populer