POV EMMA BELLE
The return to the Black Crag was not the triumphant march I had expected. We moved through the mountain passes like wounded predators, the air heavy with the aftermath of the Spire's destruction. I was drifting in and out of consciousness, cradled against Félix's chest as he moved with a steady, tireless pace.
Every time I stirred, I felt the golden thread between us pulse. It was a physical ache now, a hunger that had survived the battle and only grown sharper in the silence of the snow.
When we finally reached the stronghold, the great hall was filled with the rescued children and the frantic, grateful murmurs of the servants. But the Four Kings and I didn't stop. We headed straight for the private solar, the heavy obsidian doors shutting out the world.
Damon
