Lucien found her at dawn.
The forest was still heavy with night, mist clinging to the roots of ancient trees. His trackers had lost her trail twice, but instinct raw and unrelenting had driven him forward. Every step felt like he was walking against his own heartbeat.
She stood at the edge of a ravine, pale light washing over her blood-streaked hands.
Seraphine.
For a moment, he simply watched her. The way her shoulders shook. The way she pressed her fists to her lips, trying to hold herself together.
Guilt stabbed through him.
But he crushed it.
If he softened now, he would lose her forever to the Order, to fate, to death.
“Don’t move.”
She flinched at the sound of his voice.
Slowly, she turned.
Her eyes were red. Hollow. Something vital had been taken from her.
“Lucien…”
The
