CHAPTER 14: WHAT REMAINS AFTER THE RUIN
The scent of blood hung thick in the air—iron, ash, and rot, the perfume of death. It clung to her skin like sin, soaked into the marrow of her bones.
Catleya stirred.
At first, it was just a twitch—fingers curling against earth wet with c*****e. Then a groan. Then a gasp, sharp as a dagger. Her eyes fluttered open, dry and burning, and the sky above her spun like a wheel unhinged.
Her throat was parched, raw from screaming—or growling. She didn’t know which.
Her body ached, but it wasn’t just from the bruises or the cold. It was deeper than that, like something had cracked inside her—something sacred, something that would never mend the way it was before.
She blinked.
And then she saw it.
Bodies. Strewn like broken dolls across the forest fl
