[Arthur's POV]
The Nightshade estate was silent under the moonlight.
In the training hall behind us, the remnants of destruction lay scattered across the floor—sparks still flickering from the broken dummy, deep marks carved into the walls from wild swings, blood staining the stone in dark patches that would take hours to clean.
But none of that mattered now.
Outside, on a small wooden bench near the hall's entrance, two figures sat under the vast night sky.
I leaned back against the bench, my shirt torn and bloodied, fresh bandages wrapped around my arms and chest where Amelia had tended to the worst wounds.
My breathing was still uneven, my body aching in ways I'd long learned to ignore. But right now, the physical pain wasn't what occupied my mind.
Amelia knelt before me.
