Unless she wanted me curious?
The realization settled uneasily in my stomach.
“A descendant of Máni,” I muttered under my breath as I started walking again.
The name rolled around inside my head.
Familiar.
Gods, why was it familiar?
“Manny?” I whispered. “No. Not Manny, idiot. Máni.”
My thoughts raced as I crossed the torch-lit pathways leading toward the dormitories.
Máni.
Moon.
There was something about the moon.
Something ancient.
Something powerful.
I could practically feel the answer hovering just beyond my reach.
Like a memory trapped beneath water.
And underneath all of that confusion—underneath the questions and curiosity and dangerous fascination—there was something else.
Warm.
Certain.
A feeling I could not explain no matter how hard I tried.
Because every instinct I possessed kept circling back to the same impossible truth.
Sten felt right.
Not safe.
Definitely not safe.
But right in a way that bypassed logic entirely.
And that should have terrified me more than anything.
Instead, I felt something else.
Something that felt a lot like fate.
Chapter 7-Sten
Eight days.
Eight gods be damned days of sheer, relentless torture.
