Elder Luna Seraphine's POV
The old stones beneath my feet were screaming.
I pressed my hands against the sacred altar in my private room, feeling the vibrations of dark magic that had been building for weeks. But tonight, after Morgana's defeat, something was badly wrong. The magic wasn't disappearing like it should have been.
It was getting stronger.
"Impossible," I whispered, my seventy-year-old bones aching as I reached for the crystal that showed me hidden facts. "Morgana is dead. The dimensional tear is healed. Why do I still feel..."
The crystal sparked to life, and what I saw made my blood turn to ice.
Three dark figures stood around a ritual circle that looked exactly like the one Morgana had used. But this wasn't a memory or an echo from her magic. This was happening right now, somewhere close to our area.
"The Shadowlands Council," I breathed, remembering Morgana's final threat. "They're already here."
