Semua Bab MOON OF ASHES: Bab 61 - Bab 70

The cavern no longer roared. No shadows stirred, no tremor shook the stone. Only the slow, rhythmic pulse of the silver veins remained, like a giant heart gradually returning to rest.Ava lay on her back, staring at the ceiling streaked with fading light. Every muscle throbbed, her chest rising in shallow, uneven breaths. Her skin still glowed faintly, cracks of silver spiderwebbing her arms and fading with each heartbeat.She was alive. Barely.The wolves pressed around her, their warmth seeping into her bones. She could feel them in the bond—calmer now, steadier, no longer twisted by the Exile’s chains. The hum was softer, clearer, like a song played in tune for the first time.Silas sank down beside her. He was bleeding from his temple, his sword broken at the hilt, but his gaze never left her. “Breathe,” he whispered. “Just keep breathing.”“I am,” she rasped, her lips curling into the ghost of a smile.Mara stumbled closer, clutching an empty quiver. Her eyes were wide, dazed, as

They left the clearing before the sun had fully risen, their shadows long and stretched thin against the forest floor. The air still carried the iron tang of blood, but Ava didn’t look back. To linger there would only feed the weight already crushing her chest.The wolves moved ahead, their silver-flecked coats flickering in the half-light. They formed a vanguard, ears twitching at every sound, as if daring the forest to test them again. Behind them, Mara walked in silence, bow slung across her back, her jaw set like stone. Caleb followed, his spear tapping a steady rhythm against the earth, each step restless. Silas stayed close to Ava, though his arm was still bound with strips of cloth, the stain of his wound darkening with each hour.For a time, the only sound was the hush of the wind through the trees. But Ava could feel the hum of the bond, stronger now than ever. It stretched outward in every direction, threads weaving like a web across the world. Most of the voices beyond were

Morning came slow and gray, the kind of dawn that seeped through stone instead of breaking it. The cave smelled of damp earth and smoke, and the silence was restless—broken by the occasional whimper, the scrape of claws, or the low grumble of a wolf repositioning itself.Ava woke with the boy still pressed against her side. His breathing was shallow but steady, his face slack in exhausted sleep. She studied him for a long time, memorizing the lines of his too-thin frame, the bruises blooming along his arms. He looked younger when he wasn’t trembling, younger and unbearably fragile.She eased her arm free and rose carefully, pulling the blanket over him. The others—the rescued fractured ones—shifted as she moved. Their eyes tracked her warily, animal and human all at once.Ava crouched near them, keeping her voice soft. “You’re safe here. No one will hurt you.”The bramble-haired woman tilted her head, her lips moving without sound. Ava leaned closer. “What is it?”The whisper came cra

The night dragged on, heavy and suffocating. The fire had been rebuilt, but its glow did little to ease the fracture carved through the heart of the cave. Two currents of silence ran parallel—one coiled tight around Silas’s command, the other circling Ava’s quiet defiance.The fractured ones moved like shadows, drifting between the two poles as if pulled by tides. Some pressed closer to Silas, seeking the solidity of his authority, their gazes wary but anchored. Others lingered near Ava, their eyes softening when she looked at them, as though her kindness reminded them of a part of themselves they thought long dead.The boy fell asleep curled against Ava’s side, his hand clutching her sleeve. The bramble-haired woman slept near her too, her humming fading into soft breaths. Across the fire, the gray-eyed man sat upright, bruised but unbowed, his eyes fixed on Silas as if daring him to strike again.Caleb sharpened his spear, each scrape loud in the stillness. Mara continued her quiet

The forest beyond the cave was alive with whispers. By midday, a chill had crept into the air, and though the fractured ones worked to clean weapons and stretch strips of deer meat over the fire, their eyes kept straying to the treeline. The howls of wolves had returned—not the loyal pack that had followed Ava, but something harsher, wilder, threaded with a rhythm that made the skin crawl.Ava stood at the mouth of the cave, arms folded, watching the distant shapes flicker between the trees. The Wilds had not attacked again, not yet, but she could feel them circling. Testing. Waiting. It was like standing on the edge of a storm, knowing lightning would strike but not knowing when.Mara joined her, wiping her hands on a rag. “They’re restless,” she murmured. “The people. And the Wilds.”“They can feel it,” Ava said. “The air. It’s… heavier. Like the curse didn’t die with the crystal. Like it just changed its shape.”Mara didn’t answer, but her silence said enough.Behind them, the frac