The Lunar Legacy
The creek’s gurgle was a soft murmur, drowned by the wind’s low moan, carrying whispers of something darker—a scent, a threat, lurking beyond sight.
Samantha Lykos crouched by a cluster of claw-marked rocks, her crescent-tipped staff gripped tight, its oak warm against her callused palms. Her auburn braid hung over one shoulder, strands loose, catching the moon’s glow like embers. Green eyes narrowed, sharp as blades, scanning the marks—deep, fresh, too large for common rogues. Her leather boots scuffed the dirt, her breath shallow, heart thudding against the weight of Cora’s prophecy: the Eclipse Fang, two days away, red eyes hungry for their blood. Her crescent moon tattoo tingled on her c
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