Zylia’s POV
The next morning, everything felt wrong.
The air.
The silence.
Even the way the light touched the tents.
I didn’t see Mason when I stepped out, but I felt him, that quiet presence that made the space around me heavier.
The camp was awake, yet too still.
Everyone moved in careful steps, as if afraid to disturb something fragile.
I tied my hair back, trying to ignore the way my fingers shook.
The memory of last night, his voice, his warmth, wouldn’t stop replaying in my head.
Then be you. Not the Moon’s version. Yours.
I hated that those words still echoed. I hated that part of me believed them more.
Sometimes, when no one was watching, I caught myself reaching for the place his hand had touched mine, like my skin still remembered him.
It was maddening.
The pull be
