The dawn didn't just break, it bled. A pale, immaterial gold spilled over the jagged mountain peaks, catching the frost and turning the entire world into a blinding field of crushed diamonds.
Amara stood by the window for a long moment, watching the light reclaim the valley. For the first time in what felt like a lifetime, the heavy, suffocating weight of Elara's bitterness felt like a garment she had finally stepped out of. She felt light. She felt clean.
Beside her, the bed stayed warm. Julian was still submerged in a deep, peaceful sleep, his breathing steady and slow, the sound of a man who finally believed the battle was over. Amara watched the rise and fall of his shoulders, a soft smile tugging at her lips. She didn't want to wake him. Not yet. This morning, she wanted to offer a silent prayer to the horizon alone.
