SIXTY ONE

ELENA’s POV

I find Hunter later that night, strolling along the fields where we once practised our shooting for the trial. It was here that he trained me to become the marksman that I am today.

Here, I am reminded of how he held me in his arms on this very field, steadying my then trembling hands and teaching me to look past the pain and to just focus on the target at hand. I look at him and my lips curve up into a smile, I would not be who I am today if it were not for Hunter.

I owe this man my life. He is the light of my life, the reason I live and breathe.

But tonight, his scent is grave and thoughtful and I walk by his side without speaking as he strolls with both hands clasped behind his back. It is a clear night and the stars shine bright above our heads without twinkling.

“How’s Freya?” he finally asks after what feels like an eternity of silence.

I kneel by the side of a little pond next to the field