Rynn crouches too and pulls Nessa between us. I watch Rynn’s eyes as she moves—softening. The lines of war-worn woman hanging just at the edges are fading. Here, beneath moonlight and fire, she feels something else: claim, rest, permanence.
Rynn lets out a short laugh. “More than that,” she says to Nessa. “We’re unbreakable.”
Nessa giggles. “I like unbreakable.”
I draw a breath and kiss the top of Rynn’s head. I feel her hair tumble over my cheek—salt-sweet, wind-worn. I smell sea and spice. I feel her exhale.
Sorvak steps away. The watchers rise. Some offer bows, some nod. The children scatter, chasing low drifting sparks outside into the night air. The sea beyond the open arch whispers like it knows its duty now—to guard our night.
Rynn stands. I stand. Nessa holds both our hands. We walk out of the forge. The heat fades behind us. Stone walls cool. But I carry its warmth in my chest.
Outside, the air is a relief—a cool breeze rolling in from the coast, carrying salt, the scream of seabirds, the distant splash of waves against basalt. Nessa runs ahead, barefoot along the packed rock, kicking up tiny sprays of sand and bioluminescent shells. She calls out something, I laugh, Rynn laughs, and for a moment the entire place feels likeours.
Rynn watches Nessa. I watch Rynn. I see her shoulders unclench. I see her mouth lift in a real smile. Not a guard-smile,not the one worn for the Command Deck. This one’s quiet and true.
“You know,” Rynn says, voice soft, “I never thought I’d get to do this.”
I smile at her. “Me neither.”
She looks at me. The fire-forged name stone glints somewhere behind me, reflecting the double moons. “Thank you.”
“For what?” I ask.
“For staying.”
I blink. My throat thickens. I swallow. “I wouldn’t be here if you hadn’tled.”
She shakes her head. “You did the leading. Me, I just held on.”
I pull her close. “You held on more than I ever could have asked.”
She presses her lips into my shadowed collarbone. Her voice muffles against me. “Promise me something.”
I draw back enough to look at her. “Anything.”
She exhales. “That we keep building. Not just surviving. Building.”
I nod: “We will.”
And I mean it with every scar-lined piece of me.
Nessa runs up to us again, shell in one hand, fist in the air. “Look! I found a glowing one!”
Rynn ruffles her hair. “Let’s bring it home.”
I take Nessa’s other hand. The three of us walk back toward the settlement, moonlight guiding our path. The shell glows faint turquoise in Nessa’s hand. The sound of waves, slow and rhythmic, set a new heartbeat. Our heartbeat.
No alarms. No running. No hiding.
Just two moons, one child, and a promise sealed in fire.
CHAPTER 33
RYNN
The first morning I wake and don’t flinch at the ceiling vent humming overhead is the moment I know something inside me changed.
I roll out of bed before dawn. The air is cool, soft, carrying the scent of sea mist and sea-salt blended with something green—wet moss from where the dune meets rock. I draw the breath in deep, feel the grit of the sand under my bare feet as I pad across the dorm-stone floor toward the lab. The settlement is stirring, but gently. No horns, no sirens, no alarms. Just the turning of routines.
