A soft footstep behind us.
Malrik appears first — quiet, inevitable, like he stepped out of shadow itself. He doesn’t say anything. Just watches her alongside us, eyes sharp and thoughtful.
Another set of footsteps.
Finn stumbles up beside Aspen, hair a disaster, blanket still half-wrapped around his shoulders.
He takes one look at the three of us lined up like idiots staring dreamily at Kaia and snorts.
“Let me guess,” Finn mutters. “Kieran was here first.”
Malrik actually laughs — low, quiet, and too amused for my pride.
“Some things never change,” he says.
Aspen hides a smile. Finn smirks. Malrik just lifts a brow.
I don’t dignify any of them with a response.
But my jaw tightens.
The sun breaks over the horizon as we turn, heading for the front of the house.
Torric is checking gear, adjusting straps when we get there. Finn rubbing sleep from his eyes, dark circles bruising the skin beneath. At least his humor is still there.
Jerk.
Malrik counts heads. Darian stands apart as Kaia makes her way from the garden. She gives him a small smile that looks warmer than yesterday as she steps up beside me.
Her shadows act first. Bob snaps into a crisp salute. Mouse flicks his tail once, a low acknowledgment. Finnick dangles upside down from the eaves, chewing on a stolen pastry. Patricia’s notebook flickers to life, already documenting. Linda drifts close, radiating approval. Steve extracts himself from another bush and attempts a salute, wobbling dangerously.
“Ready?” she asks.
One word. Simple. Direct.
But it carries everything.
She’s not afraid. She’s centered. She trusts me. She sees me.
My chest aches.
“Yes,” I say.
It feels like a lie.
Elda steps forward as we approach the gate.
She doesn’t offer speeches or blessings. Just looks at each of us in turn, and finally settles on me.
“You’ll know when you’ve done what must be done,” she says quietly.
I nod once.
She steps aside.
I turn to the group. My group. My responsibility.
“Let’s move.”
