She was here for a reason. Not to sleep, but to awake. Not to be claimed, but to claim. The power of a fallen god. The legacy of a shattered line. The power of the light in the night. To tear it, beating and bleeding, from a shattered chest and wrest back her brother from the bastard who’d claimed him. To fight and die for the only thing that gave her life meaning anymore. The only thing she had left. When all is blood, blood is all.
