Chapter 41: There is Heat in the Ashes
The sun rose slow through misted ruins.
Its light slid like gold across the jagged stones and shattered columns, catching on overgrown thorns, still-wet moss, and scorched-out prayer circles long since abandoned by the gods.
Somewhere in the trees, birds sang.
They didn’t belong here.
But neither did Rein.
He sat on the edge of a low stone platform, shoulders hunched, cloak draped over him like a half-finished thought. His hair was damp from an awkward basin-wash. His shirt still smelled faintly of Zeraka’s claws. Valaithe’s scent clung to the inside collar like laughter with teeth.
Elaris paced the far side of the camp, eyes scanning. Always quiet. Always watching.
Iris knelt by a circle of scorched sigils, her veil stitched back into place, her hands folded unnaturally still.
Zeraka was sharpening one of her bone-hilted knives against a jagged slab of altar. She wasn’t watching Rein.
But her ears flicked every time he shifted.
Caelia stood alone.