Chapter 39 - 38 - The Hand That Stayed
Without Riven realizing it, Ashtoria was suddenly beside him—silent, nearly soundless, as if she had emerged straight from the shadows of the night. In her arms, she carried Mira, who was still fast asleep, her little face peaceful beneath the folds of a warm jacket.
Riven jolted, his heart nearly stopping. His trembling body tensed on reflex, and he raised Crysthalis halfway before recognizing who stood next to him.
"Anna...? What are you—"
He clamped his mouth shut, swallowing the rest of his words. He remembered they were still in danger. His breath came in ragged gasps, but somehow, Ashtoria’s presence made his chest feel just a little lighter—even if it also brought a fresh wave of unease.
How did she get here so quickly?
And more importantly...
"Was it you just now...?" Riven tried to ask, voice low, but the question trailed off. His gaze swept across the battlefield—scattered blood, mangled remains of beasts still steaming, and a silence that felt like a crack before the next storm.
Ashtoria didn’t answer. She only shifted her gaze toward Riven—those blood-red eyes colder than usual, like a frozen lake concealing something in its depths.
Riven’s torso was torn from shoulder to waist, his flesh jagged and uneven from a bear’s claw. Blood streamed down, soaking his clothes now ripped to useless rags. Other wounds marked his arms, his thighs, even his temple was bruised. His breathing was heavy, but steady—like a man too stubborn to fall.
Ashtoria remained silent.
But for some reason, Riven felt a chill run down his spine.