The forest breathed in silence, as though the world itself held its breath after the Huntmaster's decree. The echo of his words lingered like a curse carved into bone:
"The first blood is hers. The sister. Run… and survive if you can."
The moon overhead pulsed with an ominous, sickly crimson halo, spilling fractured light across the clearing. The scent of iron already tainted the air, though no blood had yet fallen. Not yet.
Aria stood frozen where she was, the weight of the Blood Oath crushing against her ribs like chains. Every nerve in her body screamed for movement, for action, but her mind spiraled. The Hunt was real. The Hunt was law. And her sister—the last piece of family she had left—had just been marked as prey.
A hand closed around her arm. Firm. Burning. Caleb.
"Aria—look at me." His voice cut through the chaos in her head, low and sharp.
