Kora’s POV
The night bled into morning, but no one slept. The Vale smoldered quietly, a graveyard of ash and ember. Smoke clung to the air, heavy and sour, and the silence that followed the battle felt wrong — like the world was holding its breath, waiting for something worse.
I sat beside Edward’s cot in what was left of the healer’s tent. The canvas walls were torn, flapping in the wind, and the faint smell of blood mixed with the burnt earth outside.
He was pale. Too pale. His chest rose and fell, shallow but steady. Every time he breathed, I could see the faint shimmer of heat moving under his skin — a quiet, pulsing glow that mirrored my own heartbeat.
Seraphine’s words echoed in my head. The bond runs both ways. What one feels, the other carries.
That meant every flicker of fire
