The night air was sharp, biting, but I was so lost in the storm of my own mind that the cold barely registered. Half-blood. The words echoed in my skull, a broken record, a taunt that gnawed at my sanity. Was I losing it? To question my own blood, to doubt everything I’d ever been told—was that madness? I clenched my fists, nails digging into my palms. No. I know who I am. I know my name. I know myself. But did I? The par...