The silence that followed Selene's departure was not a void; it was a pressurized, toxic density that seemed to vibrate in the very marrow of my bones.
I remained on my knees atop the quartz platform of the Sun-Eater Peak, my fingers digging into the cold, translucent stone. The rose-gold light of the Master-Vial was still humming beneath my skin, but it felt heavy now, like liquid lead instead of starlight. I looked at the spot where Selene had stood—the woman who had been my shadow, my tormentor, and the supposed ghost Kaelen had spent a lifetime mourning.
She hadn't looked like a monster. She hadn't looked like a construct of salt or ash. She had looked like the "Golden Luna" of the Obsidian Pack—radiant, untouched, and terrifyingly whole.
"She's alive."
