Dawn light filtered through the leaves in thin gray shafts. Aiden's true form had fully receded. He sat on the fallen trunk, cleaned what he could of the night from his skin and clothes, and checked the key. It remained quiet against his ribs. The ordered power settled back into its usual controlled place, though the residual heat of the bloodline still lingered under the surface like banked coals.
Ressa lay where he had left her, thighs still slick, the last of the painted patterns gone. Her true elven face was fully visible in the morning light—fine bones, clear green eyes, long pale hair tangled with moss and sweat. She watched him without speaking while he packed the few pieces of gear that had survived the fight.
He did not look at her when he spoke.
"The road north continues. The others will have scattered. I travel alone from here."
Ressa sat up slowly. Understanding landed in her eyes at once. The tears followed without any attempt to hide them.
