I remember the night I was born—the sky turned red, and the moonstones cracked across three provinces. They say a child of the Blood Moon brings either salvation or ruin. I never wanted either.

Now, standing atop the Obsidian Spire, I feel the pull again. Seven days until the eclipse. My hands tremble—not from fear, but from the energy building beneath my skin. Kael grabs my arm, his voice urgent.

'You’re glowing again,' he says. 'If the Coven sees this, they’ll chain you before dawn.'

I clench my fists. 'I can’t stop it anymore. It’s like something inside me is waking up—and it doesn’t care what I want.'

Mira’s voice echoes from below: 'Then stop fighting. The moon doesn’t command you, Luna. You are its voice.'

But what if I don’t like what it tells me to do?