Novah’s POV The breath left Ashton’s lungs in a silent rush. Ten years. Ten years of searching, of grieving, of building a fortress of power and pain around the hollow space she’d left. Ten years of imagining this moment, a thousand different ways, filled with joy, relief, anger, sorrow.None of it prepared him for *this*.She was painfully thin, her frame swallowed by a rough-spun tunic and trousers that weren’t hers, too big and stained with mud and something darker. Her face, once vibrant and softly rounded, was gaunt, hollows carving shadows beneath high cheekbones that seemed too sharp. Her skin, always pale like moonlight, was sallow, smudged with dirt, and marred by a fading bruise along her jawline and a raw scrape on her forehead. Her famous dark brown hair, once a cascade of rich waves, was matted, tangled with twigs and leaves, hanging lank and lifeless around her shoulders. She looked… broken. Discarded. Like a precious doll left out in a storm for years.But it was her e
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