The thick silence that followed was broken only by the occasional rustle of leaves and the distant calls of night creatures. The air was heavy, and the scent of blood lingered faintly together with the cool breeze.
Sarah shifted Hiyasmin in her arms, brushing a few loose strands of golden hair from her daughter's lovely face. Hiyasmin had already fallen asleep, her small hands remained clenched in her mother's cloak, as if she had sensed something was wrong even in her dreams.
Sarah's voice was soft when she spoke. "It's too late. Let's go home..."
I slowly straightened myself. My arms were still wrapped protectively around Marcus, who nestled into me like a child seeking warmth from the cold. Daemond and Ksaver flanked my sides. They were now too tired to speak. Too exhausted to even cry.
