Chapter Forty-Five

Less than an hour had gone by since Alex recovered Malachai from the debris. He still hadn’t woken up yet, and the nighttime sky did not lighten at all. Alex’s sense of time had been completely disoriented since he was knocked out himself. All this time he spent stealthily patrolling the shattered remains of the outpost, hoping that the Domineers in the area would not be coming back to scavenge the campsite, or that the Ravennites from the Citadel might come to his aid.

Despite enduring the winter weather for weeks now, Alex was feeling colder than ever; not just on the outside, but in his mind and heart as well. In the span of less than a single night, it seemed that all of the efforts they had made in the name of hope had been ripped away. Everyone was gone; either captured or killed, and only Malachai remained. Rowan was gone, and he blamed himself. He abandoned his post, and for all he knew