Jude turned and made his way back to the others. Their days had fallen into a rhythm again, but it was a different kind of peace now, not one born from comfort, but from vigilance. There was a tension coiled in everyone's shoulders, a readiness in the air, like they were living in the moment before a storm.
Susan was the first to greet him in the hallway. She was already dressed in her leather hunting clothes, bow slung across her back, hair pulled tight. She didn't ask where he'd gone. They both understood now, some journeys had to be taken alone, but the return was what mattered.
"Something's coming," she said.
He nodded. "I think it's already here."
In the kitchen, Lucy was stirring something thick and fragrant in a pot. Her hands were steady, movements slow and deliberate, but her eyes flicked to Jude when he entered. Behind her, Zoey and Stella were sharpening blades, and Rose sat at the table with a map spread open, marking circles and symbols no one could decipher but her.
