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hidden, much like Pyreshore, and one of the most protected sites of the Werewolf race—sacred t’ the wolves, so we must treat it with as much respect as we would treat our own sacred grounds,” Uncle Lachlan explained.

Cian and I locked eyes. The White Mountains seemed to be a rather popular place, and though neither of us said a word, I knew he was thinking along the same lines. With plans to visit the White Mountains the next night during the Silver Moon, we needed to know where these Lunar Ruins might be in relation and possibly go there first.

“If it’s hidden by the wolves, how are we supposed t’ find it?” I posed.

“I was given precise directions and instructions on how t’ enter. Being as we aren’t of wolf decent, permission had t’ be bestowed, and we must follow detailed specifics,” he informed us.

Cian raised an eyebrow. “And if we falter on said specifics?”

Uncle Lachlan hesitated, then said, “Let’s just make sure we don’t falter.” The air went silent for a moment as if Uncle Lachlan needed a dramatic pause. He didn’t. The moment seemed plenty dramatic without one. “Aish, have ye completed the translation? Anything helpful in it?” he asked.

Personally, this would have been where I’d have inserted the dramatic pause, but he’d already used it, so I just began with my reply. “I finished just as you called, actually. And I can’t say there’s anything helpful in it. Interesting and a little ominous, but not necessarily helpful in regard t’ the Kanna Stone.”

“Well, at least we have a solid lead,” Cian interjected.

“Aye. Speaking of leads, Uncle Lach, when they gave you the directions to the Lunar Ruins, did they give you anything like an address to go on? We had planned to head up that way tomorrow for something a little unrelated, but if they are close by, maybe we can make a day of it,” I suggested.

It was at that point I had to explain our trip to Uncle Lachlan and answer a hundred questions. But, when it was all said, we had what we needed to determine a general location for the Lunar Ruins and to estimate the distance between the two sites.

We ended the conversation with the promise to call Uncle Lachlan back and let him know when he needed to be ready. He was intrigued by the Silver Moon celestial event and decided to come along. And to be honest, I was perfectly fine with having an extra pair of eyes to keep a look out for whoever had sent that message.

Cian placed his phone on the coffee table and leaned back next to me. I was still sitting quite close to him on the couch. He reached his arm behind me and rested it on the back of the cushion, then turned slightly toward me.

“I can tell something didn’t set well with ya in that translation, ya want t’ tell me what?”

I both loved and hated that he read me so well. I leaned over and grabbed the notepad I had been writing on. “I don’t know why it affected me the way it did. It’s not like there’s anything here that’s going t’ change the world.”

His shoulders bobbed once. “Might change someone’s world. What’s it say?”

“It reads like a prophesy of some kind. It’s written by the elders of the Kanna Tribe although it doesn’t give me a definite year or era when it was written. They foretell of those that ‘hail from a heavenly bloodline.’ It calls them ‘Dreamwalkers with one foot in the earthly realm and one in the realm of the heavenlies.’ It says there are three of their kind that, during the year of silver skies, will place the stone and wield the blade and each face the choice between darkness and light. It warns that darkness leads t’ death and light will bring life. I’m not sure what it means by ‘the stone,’ but I think it’s referring t’ the Tartaros Blade, since it happens t’ be drawn at the bottom. And that’s all it says.”

A flash of contemplation emerged before he furrowed his brow. “It’s definitely a little strange. Can ya pinpoint what it is that bothers ya about it?”

“Nope.”

“One foot in the earthly realm and one in the heavenlies sounds a lot like somethin’ I once read describing the origins of Davar Magén. But I don’t ever recall anything about Dreamwalkers.” Cian’s chest rose and fell quickly with the frustrated thought. “I’m just graspin’ at straws.”

“Welcome to my world.”

“You are one of the most intuitive people I’ve ever met, Aisling O’Cléirigh,” he offered, leaning toward me, placing a hand intimately on the back of my neck. His thumb traced calming circles of warmth. “I’m pretty comfortable being in your world.”

“I don’t feel very intuitive at the moment. I actually feel pretty overwhelmed.”

“I can’t say I’m surprised. Have ya really stopped t’ think about how much has been pushed in t’ your path in just the past week? Even just the past two days. The note, the doppelgänger stalker, visions ya weren’t expectin’, a blast from the past, and more. I think you’re handlin’ it like a rockstar.”

“I appreciate the vote of confidence. Maybe if I were getting’ drunk like a rockstar, this might feel less stressful,” a smiled ticked up the corner of my lips.

“I mean, I think I could arrange that. I did bring two bottles of wine, and I happened to see that someone left a bottle of whiskey in the cabinet by the fridge,” he teased.

“You just want t’ get me drunk an’ take advantage of me.”

Heat flared toward me in the form of a blue gaze. “I assure you, lass, I want you fully aware at all times.”

The warmth and comfort his magic had offered only seconds before was replaced by the tingling sensation of torrid tendrils easing through my veins.

“There it is,” he whispered before leaning in and resting his head to mine. At that moment, I was certain

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