Clay POV
The sting of a past battle, now different. No longer hollow, warmth bloomed, a sense of rightness, of lives saved. Scars might linger, but hope had arrived.
Emma's voice, "You ok, Clay?" Her touch, a gentle sweep beneath my eye, revealing my tears.
"Just dirt," I mumbled as we approached a cabin. "How did I not see this before?" I questioned.
"The witches," Emma chuckled.
"Much to learn," I agreed. Inside, the scent of woodsmoke mingled with anticipation as we set up camp. Emma's breath hitched, worry etched on her face. "You worried?" I asked.
"Are you ok with going to my home realm?" she questioned.
I said "Yes" brushing away her hair. "My home is with you," I said. "And I get to meet your parents," I added, earning a tired laugh from Emma.
“I’m happy you want to fol
