KAEL'S POV
The silence after the light was the worst of it.
No wind.
No Hollow breathing beneath the ground.
No thread of her heartbeat against mine.
Just cold. And snow falling through what was left of the world.
Ayla knelt a few paces away, head bowed, her hands half-buried in the frost. The silver light that had burned through her moments ago was gone; in its place, only trembling. Her scent—once intertwined with mine like a rhythm I could never lose—had thinned to something faint, unreachable.
I took a step forward. The crunch of snow sounded like blasphemy.
"Ayla," I said.
No answer. Only the whisper of flakes on stone.
The ruins were gone, but the Hollow had left its mark on the sky—veins of shadow threading through pale clouds, pulsing once and fading. I could almost swear it was breathing.
Another step. "Ayla, it's over."
