For a blink, I forget the Council, the scars, everything but this: the smell of butter, the heat of the stove, people I love around a table.
So this is what it could be like. Someday.
Zira appears in the doorway a few minutes later, elegant even in exhaustion.
“I thought I smelled food,” she says.
“There’s plenty,” I tell her, gesturing to the table.
She slides into the seat across from me, and Theo hands her a mug of coffee without asking. She takes it with a grateful nod.
For a moment, she just drinks, letting the warmth settle into her.
Then she speaks.
“Riley’s staying with me for now. She’s resting. Not well enough to travel yet, but safe.”
I feel a pang at her name, and Zira’s eyes flick to mine—sharp but understanding.
“She burned most of her power in the switch,” Zira says quietly. “What’s left is weak. Barely there.”
I nod slowly. “Is she okay?”
Zira pauses, considering. “Physically? She’ll recover. Everything else…” She shakes her head. “She just looks… lost.”
Rhett mutters something under his breath that sounds like, “Lost is better than dangerous.”
Zira’s mouth twitches, but I don’t smile.
Riley isn’t dangerous. She never really was.
She was just another one of his victims.
The conversation shifts after that—small talk, plans for the day, things that need fixing around the sanctuary.
It’s… normal.
And for a little while, I let myself believe it can stay that way.
The knock comes sharp and sudden, cutting through the laughter like a blade.
Everyone goes still.
The Ether stirs, silver threads shifting in the air—reacting to the shift in tension.
My heart thuds once, hard, and I feel it—something urgent pressing against the edges of the sanctuary’s calm.
Mairen wipes her hands on her apron, but Rhett moves first.
“Stay,” he says. “I’ve got it.”
He crosses to the door and pulls it open.
A young Feeder stands on the threshold. He’s breathless, dust on his boots, sweat beading at his temples.
“They’ve been spotted,” he says.
Rhett’s voice drops. “Who?”
