Chapter 22

Alex

I haven’t slept since the first artificial rogue attack shattered our fragile peace. Every dimly lit corridor now echoes with nervous whispers, the clatter of armor, and wrestles between hope and dread.

Warriors shift uneasily, glancing over their shoulders as if every shadow might harbor a twisted creation. Even inside these stone walls, the tension rising off Mooncrest presses against me like shards of ice.

We’ve spent endless days fortifying defenses and drilling for Sebastiano’s next strike, yet no one knows when or where he will unleash his abominations. The cruelest truth gnaws at my heart: those monsters were once people, stolen and warped into living weapons.

In the castle’s cavernous training hall, I hover a weathered, leather-bound grimoire before me. Its embossed runes glow faintly as dusty motes swirl in the torchlight. I force my empathic gift into disciplined shapes—rippling shields of calm, threads of focus—but every mental conjurin