Chapter 77: Echoes of the Flame
The sunlight broke through the gray clouds, spilling golden rays across the charred battlefield. Smoke curled from the blackened earth like whispers from the past, and the silence that followed the storm was heavy—not peaceful, but thoughtful, like the world was catching its breath.
Luna lay in Dante’s arms, her chest rising and falling slowly. Her skin, once glowing like fire, had returned to its natural tone, but faint embers still flickered along her veins. She was alive. Barely. But alive.
Dante didn’t speak. He just held her, rocking gently, as if any sudden movement might cause her to slip away. His clothes were torn, his body battered, but he didn’t care. All that mattered was her.
“You’re okay,” he whispered, more to himself than to her. “You’re
