Dane's POV:
I run through the icy mud, every step splashing cold sludge up the back of my legs, soaking into my boots, dragging at my weight like the earth itself is trying to hold me back.
The ground is uneven, churned up by boots and panic and the weight of collapsing timber. Smoke hangs low, turning the moonlight into a hazy silver wash that makes everything look almost beautiful in a way that feels cruel.
The moonlight shines on everything, softening the jagged edges of destruction, making this a beautiful nightmare.
I keep turning around to check the house in the distance.
The house where Rain is.
It stands there in the distance, dark and untouched, its outline familiar and steady against the chaos below.
No flames licking at its walls.
No smoke curling from its roof. It looks protected. Safe.
The only thing in this town that feels like it belongs to me.
It's still untouched, free of fire.
I tell myself that again.
