The smoke had long cleared, but the echoes of the battle still haunted the woods around the old lodge. Burned brush crackled underfoot. The place that once bore the false glamour of a romantic retreat was now scarred ground, proof of the war they had just survived and of what they had finally, finally ended.
Fallon was gone, but the victory felt hollow. Not empty, but weighty. As if the universe had paused to honor what had been lost.
Celeste stood over the broken ground where Fallon had last fallen, her eyes unreadable. She didn't speak. Her posture was straight, unyielding, but Hunter saw the tremor in her hands, the tight set of her jaw. He knew her too well not to.
He approached her silently, his own heart heavy with adrenaline, grief, and relief all rolled into one tangled mess.
"
