(Nova POV)
Dawn broke cold and gray over the ravine.
I woke curled on moss that still held the faint hollow of Damien's body. The space beside me was empty—cold, untouched. His scent lingered on the air like smoke after a fire: pine, iron, something darker now. The bond tugged—faint, distant, a thin golden thread stretched across miles. It hurt to feel it, like a bruise pressed too hard.
My throat throbbed. I lifted trembling fingers to the marks he'd left—red fingerprints already darkening to purple, the shape of his hands etched into my skin. I remembered the pressure, the blank black eyes, the way shadows had choked the moonlight until I couldn't breathe. Then the flare of my light—desperate, blinding—and his horrified gasp when he came back.
He'd begged me to run.
I hadn't.
And now he was gone.
