Chapter 35
- Jaxon
- The scent of blood clung to the air.
- I stood at the edge of the clearing, my boots rooted in crimson-stained petals, roses crushed underfoot, the sweet scent tainted with the thick, metallic smell of blood. The festival grounds had emptied in chaos after the scream, but I remained, staring down at the body lying unnaturally still beneath the ornate lights and decorations.