But if he stayed, she’d follow him straight into that grave.
He couldn’t let her.
Not after everything she’d already risked.
Not after the way she’d stood in front of him and told the Empire to go to hell.
Cassian had never done anything for anyone but himself. Survival had been his gods for most of his life. But this?—
This was different.
This was love.
Love meant walking away, even when every part of him screamed to stay.
Especially then.
Because Seraphine didn’t know what he’d seen.
Didn’t know what it would cost to seal the Hollow.
Buthedid.
So he shouldered his pack, slid the shard into his belt, and stepped beyond the reach of firelight.
The trees swallowed him in shadow.
One hand curled around the hilt at his side.
The other pressed to his chest, where the vision still burned like a promise he’d never sworn aloud.
With every step, he vowed?—
I will finish this.
Even if it kills me.
Because it had to.
Because she couldn’t be the one who paid the price.
TWENTY-ONE
SERAPHINE
The morning felt wrong.
Seraphine knew it before her eyes opened—like the world had shifted just slightly on its axis, quiet in all the wrong places.
The fire was down to embers.
Alek sat sharpening his blade, Lira paced like a caged animal, and Brann was muttering something into his tea. Normal things. Familiar.
But nothim.
Cassian’s spot near the ruins was empty.
No blanket, boots, and a trace.
