Bound by Moonlight and Magic
“Not yet,” the voice echoed again.
It wasn’t a whisper. It wasn’t a shout. It was every sound layered into one—wind, thunder, song, scream. My bones rattled. The glass beneath our feet vibrated like a struck tuning fork, sending discordant ripples through reality.
Kael spun toward the throne, his blade already drawn, eyes burning bright. “Who said that?”
I turned slowly. The throne was no longer empty.
Something sat there now.
No—someone.
But to call it a man would be an insult to the sheer wrongness of what I saw.
The figure seated on the throne looked like a man, but only if you squinted through fire and madness. His skin flickered—sometimes molten gold, sometimes rotted flesh. His eyes were wells of starlight, black holes surrounded by halos of blee
