The city lay quiet, a fragile calm settling over streets still glistening from the storm. Sunlight spilled across glass towers and rain-slicked asphalt, painting the world anew. Inside the stronghold, the air was thick with lingering tension but tempered now by relief, triumph, and the hum of rebuilding.Justina Ashes moved slowly through the chamber, senses still alert, though the battle had ended. Every scar, every mark of struggle, spoke not only of pain, but of survival, of strength, of fire forged into resilience. Her hand lingered on the final ember, now encased in a protective sphere. Its steady, warm glow was more than a relic of power, it was a symbol of choice regained, of legacy rewritten, of hope reclaimed.Carson Wills approached silently, deliberate, and took her hand, intertwining fingers. The heat of his touch sent a familiar shiver down her spine. “Morning,” he murmured, voice low, carrying both relief and an undercurrent of desire.Justina smiled, leaning back into h
Última atualização : 2026-02-02 Ler mais