Selene

The storm battered us as we stumbled through the jagged hills toward Shadowfang, a relentless downpour soaking us to the bone. Torren carried Elara’s body, wrapped tightly in blood-stained cloaks. He hadn’t spoken since we fled the collapsing fortress, his eyes fixed ahead like he could outrun the pain. I gripped Draven’s arm, steadying him as he limped, but he’d barely looked at me since, his focus locked on guiding the group home.

“Keep moving,” Draven rasped, voice hoarse as he waved Veyra and Thorne ahead.

Veyra glanced back, her braid plastered to her neck, eyes sharp with worry. “Draven, you’re bleeding again. Let me–”

“I said move,” he...