Kael’s POV
The morning after the tremor was unnaturally still.
Mist clung to the trees in thin ribbons, catching the faint gold light that filtered through the clouds. The Hollow looked almost peaceful from where Kael stood on the ridge, but he knew better. Stillness didn’t mean safety. It meant the Deep was thinking.
He adjusted the worn strap across his shoulder, scanning the tree line as the wind stirred the ash from last night’s fire. Aria was below, kneeling near the stream that wound through the Hollow’s floor. The baby slept in the basket beside her, wrapped in Kael’s old cloak.
For a moment, he just watched her. The sunlight brushed against her hair, making it glint like burnished copper. Even here, surrounded by ruins and echoes of a broken world, she looked like something ali
