The war was over.
But silence had a way of becoming a second battlefield.
The skies above the Hollow Fields were clear for the first time in days. Smoke no longer curled from the earth, and the scent of death had faded into something colder—emptier. Soldiers picked through wreckage. Healers walked through rows of the wounded. Elira’s magic pulsed gently across the land, patching torn ley lines and stabilizing what remained of the Veil.
But Selina couldn’t feel peace.
She stood atop the ridge overlooking what was once Kareth’s throne, her cracked blade strapped across her back, her eyes fixed on the now-closed rift.
It looked sealed.
But something still stirred beneath it.
Zane approached quietly, the wind brushing his golden hair back. He looked better than he had—his wounds healing
