Chapter 58 The Betrayal's Blade

Fynn POV The forest is a graveyard of smoldering ash, the air choked with the stench of charred earth and blood, the outpost’s ruins a distant scar under a sky bruised red-gold-black-silver-white. My light—red-gold-white-silver, fraying without Eira’s gold—pulses weakly, a heartbeat against the black flicker, no longer a spark but a storm, clawing at my control, whispering break, end, become.