The morning sun poured through the trees. I stepped out of the packhouse and let it warm me. The air smelled of wet earth and pine; the mist was gone and everything felt quieter.
Asher looked up and smiled, took my hand. We walked the clearing barefoot. I felt the earth’s pulse beneath my mark — steady, more companion than storm.
“You’ve been quiet.” He said.
“Just thinking. Trying to feel normal.” I answered.
He nodded. “Maybe not completely normal, but normal enough.”
Back at the packhouse others were awake. Gage waved from the porch; Dennis paced; Arlo and Petra watched treeline. Gage made coffee and I held the mug like an anchor.
We sat in silence until Gage nudged me. “So, Trinity — what now? You going to teach us to fight?”
I smiled, feeling the warmth spread in my chest. “Yes
