Aria
The forest finally grows quiet after sunset.
Not tense. Not hunted.
Quiet in the rare way that almost feels earned.
The silver mist is gone now. The survivors vanished with it. Torin returned to the wolf territories hours ago.
And for the first time since the mountain collapsed—it is just us again.
The bond hums softly beneath my ribs while firelight flickers across the clearing.
Steady. Warm. Resting.
Gods.
Even the bond seems exhausted.
Cassian sits near the edge of camp sharpening one of his blades automatically, though his attention shifts toward the rest of us every
few seconds without him realizing it.
Lucien leans against a fallen log beside the wards, silver magic drifting lazily through his fingers while he watches the trees.
Eryndor lies across entirely too man
