They stepped into the clearing. Jane still held the wooden horse, its surface warm against her palm.
Down the slope, voices rose—Emberfang wolves returning. Rowan among them. His gaze swept the ruins until it found her—and some of the tension in his frame loosened.
Jane offered him a faint smile.
Just behind him, leaning against a tree, stood Dain.
His eyes met Nara’s. Something flickered between them—quick and quiet. Not surprise. Not alarm.
Recognition.
And then it was gone.
No words passed. But something did. A thread, thin and well-worn, pulling taut between them.
Jane noticed. So did Rowan.
"You and Nara," Jane murmured, glancing sideways at Dain.
He shrugged, a rare softness tugging at his mouth. "Once. Still. Depends who’s asking."
The sun dipped lower, sagging behind the
