The forest was silent. Too silent.
Lyria's breaths came ragged and shallow as she stumbled through the skeletal trees, the world around her veiled in an unnatural stillness. The light that had once torn the Hollow apart was gone, leaving only the faint shimmer of ash in the air. Every shadow looked like him—like Kael—and every heartbeat sounded like his fading pulse.
"Kael…" Her voice cracked, dissolving into the quiet. "Where are you?"
The bond mark on her collarbone pulsed weakly, silver veins tracing across her skin before vanishing again. It felt like a ghost of what it once was, like her soul was trying to find him in a place he no longer existed.
She sank to her knees, fingers digging into the dirt. The scent of burnt magic still lingered—a reminder of what she had done, what they had become. The Hollow had collapsed because of her. Because she couldn't let go.
A rustle behind her made her tense.
"Who's there?"
