Chapter Fifty-Two: The Mirror of Blades

Morning revealed their camp desecrated—scorched grass, a broken Pictish-etched knife, and a smear of blood.

Lucien rose, offering Isabelle a steady hand.

Guided by Lydia’s Sight and Ciarán’s salted meditation, they pushed into deeper ancient woodland—an untouched relic of druids and fae.

Half-bur...

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