I didn't plan to tell him that night. But silence had grown heavy, like a dam ready to break, and when I looked at Darius across the firelight, I knew.
He noticed. "You're too quiet."
I sipped from the wooden cup in my hand, barely tasting the tea. "There's something I need to say."
His brow furrowed. He leaned in, concern already rising. "What is it?"
I set the cup down, hands trembling. "The dreams I've been having... they're not just dreams."
His eyes narrowed. "Luciana..."
"They're visions," I interrupted gently. "Warnings. And a prophecy."
I told him everything.
The cursed land. The ancient wizard. The darkness swallowing Silverglen. The voice—old and commanding—that called to me night after night. The Vale of Ancients. The command to go alone. The time limit. Twenty-one days.
When I finished, the room was silent except for the crackling fire.
He stared at me. "You've known all this… and didn't tell me?"
