“Yes,” I said. “That ridiculous thing.”
We turned off the main path.
Or rather—he did.
And I followed.
Immediately regretting it.
The path narrowed, twisting away from the well-lit courtyard into something darker.
Quieter.
Wrong.
“I’ve never seen this trail before,” I said cautiously.
“You wouldn’t have,” he replied.
That was so not reassuring.
The air changed.
It felt cooler.
Heavier.
The ley lines beneath Runevald pulsed faintly here, threading through the ground and rising into the sky like veins of light only he seemed able to follow.
It was like the darkness moved with him.
Like it made space.
Like it obeyed.
I shivered.
“Sten—”
“I’m busy, Luna.”
“Amrin,” I corrected.
He paused.
Just slightly.
Then, quieter—he murmured, “Amrin with the moon in her eyes.”
The words barely reached me.
But they did.
And that same something inside me that started paying attention before—that small, fragile something—lifted.
It felt lighter at his words.
Amrin with the moon in her eyes.
