The day was falling asleep.

  Torches flared to life in the chapel courtyard as the Dawnsworn gathered for night patrol, their light casting long, wavering shadows across the packed dirt. Jarold rolled his shoulders beneath his armor, leather creaking as he adjusted the strap at his chest, while Tom lingered close, eyes darting toward the treeline beyond the palisade. Prayers murmured softly as Myrren moved among the kneeling hunters, her staff touching each shoulder in blessing.

  Jarold leaned down just enough to mutter, “If the night gets any quieter, I might start talking to myself.”

  Tom snorted under his breath. “You already do.”

  Jarold grinned as the last of the light slipped behind the Mountain—and somewhere beyond the trees, the forest seemed to listen.

  As Thorn rose, his gaze swept the courtyard. Ruik was nowhere to be seen. He ordered Jarold and Tom to take the southern path, though his eyes lingered toward the forest beyond Dunkarr, to the north.

  “He’ll come when he’s ready,” Thorn muttered, unsure if he believed it.

  A glob of spit caught the moonlight before splattering against the dirt road.

  Jarold wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and leaned against the fence, its weathered boards creaking beneath his weight. Tom stood beside him, arms crossed, staring at the wet mark between their boots.

  “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that,” Tom said.

  Jarold grunted. “Not all of us were blessed to be men like me.”

  “A true marvel of the gods,” Tom replied dryly. “Any woman would be lucky.”

  “Oh, how moist it would be,” Jarold said, adjusting his belt with ridiculous pride, blocking half the moonlight.

  Tom gagged. “It’s easy to forget hunger when you’re around.”

  Jarold suddenly straightened, the fence groaning in relief as his weight lifted. Tom stumbled forward with the motion.

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  “Gods,” Jarold muttered, as though struck by a great revelation. “I almost forgot. I have to piss.”

  Tom shook his head as Jarold swung over the fence and vanished toward the trees. As coarse as the man was, Tom was grateful for his company—Jarold’s size made him feel less like a leaf in the wind.

  He glanced both ways down the road.

  A hand clamped onto his shoulder.

  “Excuse me, sir.”

  Tom flinched before realizing it was only Jarold, vaulting the fence and using him as a brace, nearly flattening him in the process. When the hand lifted, it left a damp print behind.

  Tom twitched his nose and straightened his vest. “Let’s go. No more time to waste.”

  Jarold smirked. “Aye. The women of Dunkarr will be awaiting my return.”

  They set off, Jarold’s strides heavy and unhurried, Tom’s quick as he kept pace. Dust curled behind them as the dark road stretched ahead.

  -Ruik-

  Whispering wind and distant insects filled the forest, moonlight scattering the pond like shards of glass. I stood rigid at the water’s edge—the same place where Brie and I went to escape the world.

  I grasped the sun necklace at my throat, eyes hollow.

  “You’d have loved this night,” I whispered.

  Her reflection shimmered faintly in the water, flickering between memory and illusion, bleeding through me in fragments.

  The ambush.

  The broken road.

  The carriage.

  Her laughter—then the arrow.

  The vampires came too fast.

  Her scream. The blood. Her weight in my arms. Her final breath against my cheek as she touched my face.

  “Your eyes... they were never your own.”

  Then rage. The world narrowed to red and heartbeat.

  I killed without restraint. Every strike dulled the pain but never eased it.

  Thorn had to pull me away, shouting my name while Jarold and Tom stood frozen in silent fear.

  “This isn’t you, Ruik!” Thorn yelled.

  But that was what scared him most.

  It was me.

  My breathing slowed. My hands trembled as I held the necklace, its metal faintly glinting in the moonlight.

  I felt her lips again, the first kiss above this same pond. The silent storm that stirred my heart. Our souls drumming together beneath the same reflection. The same stars.

  Now the memory felt like mockery.

  The light itself laughing at me.

  I closed my eyes and whispered,

  “You were my sun. And now you’re gone.”

  The chain snapped in my hand.

  I threw the necklace into the pond. The splash echoed in the silence like a blade drawn. Ripples spread... but didn’t fade.

  Something disturbed the water, unnatural, subtle. The reflection shifted.

  The moon itself seemed to flicker across the surface.

  I looked up. For a brief, impossible second, I saw a faint red glow among the treetops, distant, toward Dunkarr.

  A cold wind blew from that direction.

  My eyes hardened, carrying something new, a quiet, dangerous purpose.

  I turned from the pond, face half-lit by moonlight.

  Behind me, the water still rippled, the necklace sinking beneath the reflection of a blood-tinted moon.

  Somewhere beyond the trees, a scream rose.

  And this time, I ran toward it.