Echoes of Ruin
I spotted a freshman with a large tear mended across one shoulder and a girl from Lucien’s alchemy class who still had burn marks on the sleeve from when she’d pulled a friend from the library rubble.
Ronan was next to me in robes of deep forest green and jet, the Bloodpine pendant over his heart stitched over his chest like a second breastplate. His jaw was set, his hands scarred, and gods, his eyes, he’d looked in my eyes only a month ago when he might have killed me and held them steady through every too-many grave after. But he met my gaze when I exhaled a shaky breath, and his fingers brushed mine in a silent vow. We made it.