The battlefield lay silent.
The last vestiges of Zane's magic flickered into nothingness, leaving only the smell of burnt earth in the air. Jason’s breath came in short, jagged bursts, his sword still slick with the remnants of their foe. He had no time to feel relief, no space to process the weight of what they had just done.
Una stood a few feet away, her hands still crackling with residual energy, her body humming from the spell she had just cast. Her breathing was shallow, but steady—until her eyes locked with Jason’s.
And everything stopped.
In that moment, the rest of the world didn’t matter. The remnants of the battle, the bloodshed, and the storm of emotions swirling around them—none of it could reach them. There was only him. Only her.
Jason dropped his sword, the clang of me
