The forest was quiet again.
Too quiet.
The Shadows were gone. No footsteps. No echo of what had happened. Just trees and damp earth and silence.
Severo sat on the ground, holding Micah.
She was breathing—but barely.
Her skin felt cold, even though her forehead was damp with sweat. Her body was heavy in his arms. Not like she was unconscious. Like she had emptied herself.
He didn't know what she had done.
He only knew it had taken everything out of her.
"Micah," he whispered. His voice cracked. "Hey. Can you hear me?"
She didn't answer.
Her eyelids twitched, but they didn't open.
Ken knelt beside them. His blade was still in his hand, but he looked stunned—like the world had shifted and he hadn't caught up yet.
"What was that?" he asked, low.
Severo shook his head. "She did it again. Gone out of her ways to save me."
This wasn't something anyone taught her. It wasn't skill. It wasn't training.
It was power. Raw and wild and new. And it had come for him.
