Aurora gasped as her knees hit the cold earth. Her breath came in sharp bursts, and the ruins of the Nyx Umbrae surrounded her once more. But her gaze darted to a certain direction because she knew exactly where to look now.

There.

Not far from where she knelt, half-hidden by snowdrifts and the shadows of broken stone, stood a tree that shouldn’t have been there at all.

A bright red oak, its bark the color of blood under moonlight, its leaves full and green despite the frost. It didn’t look old, not even a little but it didn’t look young either.

Aurora stood up slowly, cradling her injured hand...