The light from the crack should have been warm. It should have felt like Sage’s pulse, like moonfire and breath and life. Instead, it shifted into something colder than winter air. A shadow crawled through the opening, its shape bending and twisting as if unsure of its own form. The first thing to emerge was a hand.
But it was not Sage’s.
The thing clawing its way into our world had a half-formed limb, a distorted mix of smoke and flesh that pulsed with silver lines. Its fingers were long and thin like sharpened branches, and its skin flickered between solid and mist. The same cold gleam that wrapped Eidos’s body flashed beneath its surface.
Hazel’s eyes widened in horror. “Jax, get back. Do not touch it. That is not Sage.”
I staggered forward anyway, instinct dragging me closer. The t
