The moon rose clean the next night.
No flames in the sky.
No howls from the shadows.
Only silence true and rare.
But we knew better than to believe it was over.
We didn't rebuild in celebration.
We rebuilt with purpose.
The Moon Pack estate became a beacon. Not of power but remembrance.
The walls bore the names of every echo who passed through the veil.
The garden now bloomed not only with wolfthorn, but memoryroot a plant only the Hollow could grow. Ashara said it responded to emotion, not soil. Every night, the blossoms changed color based on what we felt.
Auren kept to himself most days. He walked the stone paths barefoot, as though waiting to feel another tremor in the earth.
Lucas trained twice as hard. He said nothing, but I could see the mark still burned faintly beneath his sleeve. He didn't know whether to be proud or afraid.
And me?
I couldn't sleep.
Not because I was haunted.
But because I wasn't.
For the first time in years, my dreams were mine.
