Morning broke soft through the trees, sunlight sifting in dappled patches across the forest floor.
Rowan scanned the camp. The others were stirring—Dain packing in silence, Nara watchful at the edge of the clearing.
But Jane hadn’t returned.
She’d slipped into the woods after the truth cracked her open, and he’d let her go. She needed space. He knew that.
Still, not knowing clawed at him.
Then, just as he rose to follow—
She stepped from the trees.
Her hair was tousled by wind, her clothes damp with morning mist.
But her eyes… her eyes were clear. Sharper.
Like the forest hadn’t just held her—it had spoken. And she’d listened.
Rowan stood as she approached, heart kicking in his chest.
“Morning,” he said.
Jane tilted her head, studying him. “You stayed.”
“Of course I did.”
She
