POV: Luna Seraphina Winters
Pain shot through my chest like a lightning bolt. I dropped the bowl I was holding, and it broke on the stone floor of my secret room. I knew instantly what it meant.
"Charles," I gasped, grabbing at my heart. "No!"
Our mate bond, a link that had lasted for over twenty years, snapped like a thread cut by invisible scissors. The void that followed was so painful I couldn't breathe.
He was gone. My mate was dead.
I had no time to cry. If Charles was dead, it meant he had found Amara. It meant the Mother had returned. And it meant I had to act now.
I stumbled to my feet, still fighting through the pain of the broken tie. With shaky hands, I pulled the loose stone from the wall and took out the small wooden box I'd hidden there eighteen years ago.
Inside was a bottle of dark liquid – blood mixed with something else, something that shimmered even in the dim light. Beside it sat a black knife with strange symbols cut into the blade.
