The sun's coming up
The hunter stumbled through the Greatwood, clothes bloodied and smelling of burned skin. He made it a few more steps before he was able to lean against a tree and slide down its bark to rest on the loamy soil beneath. He let his head fall back, sweat matting his hair and sticking it to his forehead. He closed his eyes, focusing on breathing. His heart thrashed against his ribcage, each beat sending the truth of all that had happened through his limbs. His home, the place he had sacrificed everything he ever had for the safety and survival of his people, had succumb to the grasp of the Voice and her followers. Morgan had fallen to the trap of Neron and thus the trap of the Voice.
Noah knew in his heart that they should have exiled the ascended hybrid when they pulled him from his seat as Warden. Morgan's choices were no better than his. In fact, she was worse.
Eira, having followed Belial out of the frozen world she knew and into unknown territory, stuck close to the frame of Deimos. Her heart was frantic as she continued to reach out for Noah, hoping they would find her bondmate in the green of where they were. She knew, in the depths of her being, that he was alive -- because she was.
But the steel around your heart is starting to rust
