Selina’s POV
"She doesn't need the infirmary anymore," a soft, yet perfectly clear voice cut through the heavy, vibrating silence of the cavern.
I lifted my head from Finn’s shoulder, my silver hair falling away to reveal a figure stepping out from the sapphire archway. It was Isolde. The sight of her made my breath catch in my throat. When Elias had carried her into the sanctum, she had been a fragile, cooling shell, her bronze skin grey with the exhaustion of trading her physical sight for the salvation of the Resistance.
Now, she stood entirely unaided. During the peak of the chaotic ascension, while the Bridge of Sighs was crumbling and I was screaming into the abyss for my Hound, Isolde had dragged herself to the very base of the Northern Anchor. She had bathed in the raw, unfilter
