Fated by fire and fortune
Selene staggered back, exhausted, the Lunaris Blade now dull and lifeless in her hand.
Around her, the Deathborn faltered—some falling to their knees, others dropping their weapons as if waking from a nightmare. The curse had shattered. The hold Lucian had over them was gone.
Marcus limped to her side, blood streaking his brow. “It’s done,” he breathed.
Selene turned, scanning the battlefield. The dead lay silent. The living stood—shocked, broken, but alive.
Kael approached, his eyes dark with grief and relief. “Bloodmoon stands,” he said quietly.