Eleanora’s POV

The fortress burned behind us, smoke twisting into the silver-lit sky, but all I could hear was my daughter’s shallow breathing pressed against my chest.

We had won. The Red Rogue was dead. The nightmare was over. Yet the hollow silence inside me said otherwise.

Gannon stood just ahead, blood trickling down his temple, his hand still clenched around his sword. Our parents gathered beside him, bruised but alive, warriors reborn from the ashes of our broken pasts. Nova walked with her mother, her magic pulsing faintly as she healed the wounded.

But none of it felt like peace. Not yet.

I cradled our daughter closer, brushing her...