Selene stood quietly as Alaric tied a strip of cloth over her palm, where the spear had cut her. Her blood was dry now, but her body still felt cold. Not from the wound from what followed it.

The moon had turned black. The sky had spoken. And nothing would ever be the same again.

Alaric hadn’t said much since the moon's voice echoed across the sky. He had ordered the warriors back into the camp and told them to wait. Selene noticed his hands shaking, just a little, when he thought no one was watching.

Now, he was quiet.

Caius stood nearby, arms crossed, watching her. He hadn’t spoken...