The cellar beneath the crypt groaned.
Dust fell from ancient beams. The stones that made up the floor shivered as if something beneath them had stirred stretched after a long, deliberate sleep.
Above, the wolves of the estate slept unaware.
But below?
Something crawled.
Its fingers were pale and jointless, bone wrapped in shadow. No heartbeat. No scent. No blood. Only hunger.
Ashriel's first herald had awakened.
And it wanted the bond bearer.
Magnolia woke with a gasp.
She sat upright in her bed, sweat clinging to her skin, breath caught in her throat. The sheets were twisted around her legs. Her nightgown clung to her damp skin.
She looked to the window.
The moon was waning. A thin crescent hung like a blade in the sky.
Her chest hurt.
Not her heart.
The bond.
It was tightening. Pulsing. Like a heartbeat that wasn't hers.
She swung her legs over the side of the bed and winced.
Her left palm the one she'd plunged into the river was bleeding again.
