The soft rustling of fabric stirred Ember from her sleep.

  She blinked against the morning light that peeked through the cracks in the wooden walls, taking in the faint sounds of movement—items shifting, clothes being folded, occasional frustrated sighs.

  Elena.

  Ember turned her head slightly, still nestled in the warmth of her blankets, and saw her friend sitting on the floor, struggling to organize her belongings. The way she frowned in concentration, lips pursed, eyebrows drawn together—it was almost adorable.

  A quiet smile tugged at Ember’s lips as she simply watched.

  Elena let out a small grunt, attempting to stuff too many items into a small space. The moment she removed one thing, another toppled over. She muttered something under her breath, clearly annoyed.

  Ember finally sighed, stretching out before getting up. Without a word, she knelt beside Elena and began helping her.

  Elena froze, looking at her with wide, puzzled eyes. “You’re helping me?”

  Ember didn’t even glance at her as she carefully folded a piece of cloth. “Obviously.”

  “But…” Elena frowned. “Last night, you were acting like a complete jerk—”

  Ember hummed in amusement. “Was I?”

  “Yes! You didn’t even help me with anything! And now, you’re being all soft?” Elena narrowed her eyes. “What’s going on with you?”

  Ember merely shrugged, suppressing a smirk.

  “I don’t get you,” Elena huffed, crossing her arms. “One minute, you’re distant and mean, and the next you’re acting like…” She hesitated, then muttered, “...like you actually care.”

  At that, Ember finally turned to her, arching a brow. “Actually care? You think I don’t?”

  Elena pouted. “Well, sometimes you’re so hard to understand. It’s annoying.”

  “Hmm.” Ember chuckled, folding another cloth neatly. “Maybe I just like keeping you on your toes.”

  Elena rolled her eyes. “Of course you do.”

  They bickered for a while longer, their voices light and familiar, as if the tension from the night before had never happened.

  Eventually, Elena sighed, shaking her head with a small smile. “At least today, I’m greeted with good Ember.”

  Ember smirked. “Oh? So, does that mean you prefer this Ember?”

  Elena turned red. “I didn’t say that.”

  “You implied it.”

  “I did not.”

  Ember simply grinned, watching as Elena struggled to find a comeback.

  Then—

  A knock on the door.

  Both of them turned.

  Ember stood first, crossing the room in a few strides before pulling the door open.

  Kaelen stood there, holding a wooden tray filled with something that didn’t resemble any food Ember had seen before. The smell, though, was pleasant—earthy and slightly sweet.

  “Breakfast,” Kaelen said simply, handing over the tray. His silver eyes flicked between them, then he smirked slightly. “I assume you’re both well-rested?”

  Elena smiled. “Yes, thank you.”

  Ember simply grunted, taking the tray.

  “I have duties to attend to,” Kaelen added, stepping back. “Enjoy.”

  And with that, he was gone.

  Ember shut the door and turned back to the tray, eyeing the food warily.

  Elena peeked over her shoulder. “What… is that?”

  The meal consisted of several small, rounded portions of what looked like soft bread, except the color was an unusual shade of deep blue. Alongside it were thin slices of something orange, resembling dried fruit.

  Ember raised an eyebrow. “Looks weird.”

  “Smells weird.”

  Elena sniffed it cautiously before wrinkling her nose. “Are you sure it’s food?”

  “Nope.”

  There was a pause. Then—

  Ember grabbed a piece and took a bite.

  Elena gasped. “You idiot! What if it’s poison?!”

  Ember chewed slowly, savoring the unexpected burst of sweetness mixed with a light, nutty flavor. She swallowed and gave Elena a look. “It’s delicious.”

  Elena remained skeptical, eyeing the food suspiciously. “I don’t trust it.”

  Ember smirked, picking up another piece. “Suit yourself.” She took another bite, chewing dramatically. “Mmm. Too bad you’re missing out.”

  Elena groaned. “You’re doing this on purpose.”

  “Maybe.”

  Elena pouted, staring at the food in deep contemplation. Finally, she exhaled and grabbed a piece. “Fine. But if I die—”

  “You won’t,” Ember assured, grinning.

  Elena shot her a glare before hesitantly taking a small bite.

  Her expression shifted immediately.

  “…Oh.”

  Ember smirked. “Told you.”

  Elena huffed but took another bite, chewing thoughtfully.

  Just as Ember reached for another piece, Elena, in an attempt to grab one at the same time, accidentally knocked into her.

  It happened too fast.

  A slight shove. A misstep. And suddenly—

  Ember lost her balance.

  They toppled onto the bed.

  For a moment, there was nothing but silence.

  Then, Ember realized—

  She was on top of Elena.

  Her hands pressed into the mattress on either side of Elena’s head, her body hovering just above her friend’s. Elena lay beneath her, eyes wide, lips slightly parted, cheeks painted in a soft pink.

  Ember’s heart stuttered.

  Elena’s breath hitched, her fingers twitching against the sheets.

  They stared at each other, neither moving, neither looking away.

  Ember could hear the rush of her own heartbeat, feel the warmth of Elena’s body beneath hers.

  A small part of her told her to move.

  But another part of her… didn’t want to.

  Elena swallowed, her voice barely above a whisper. “Ember…?”

  Ember blinked, snapping out of whatever trance had taken hold of her.

  Quickly, she pushed herself up, clearing her throat. “You should be more careful.”

  Elena sat up slowly, still looking flustered. “Me?” She huffed, crossing her arms. “You’re the one who fell on me!”

  Ember smirked. “Yeah, yeah.”

  Elena frowned, still clearly flustered, and Ember found herself enjoying that look on her.

  She leaned in slightly, lowering her voice. “You okay there, Lena?”

  Elena’s blush deepened. “Don’t call me that.”

  Ember just chuckled, standing up and brushing herself off.

  Elena pouted, avoiding her gaze as she picked at the blankets.

  Ember finished her food quickly, setting the wooden tray aside before stretching her arms with a satisfied sigh. "Alright," she said, turning toward Elena, who was still picking at her meal. "What’s the plan for today?"

  Elena took a final bite, wiping her hands on a cloth. “Exploration,” she answered simply, a small, eager smile playing on her lips.

  Ember nodded. “Sounds good.”

  With that, they stepped out into the cool morning air.

  The nest looked much the same as it had yesterday—wooden walkways suspended between the trees, curved structures built into the thick trunks, and Aelyr moving about their daily routines. A few Eldari creatures floated lazily in the sky above, their shimmering bodies catching the sunlight. The air smelled of fresh leaves, damp wood, and the faint aroma of food being prepared somewhere nearby.

  As they walked, Ember found herself glancing at Elena.

  Something seemed… off.

  Elena kept one hand on her stomach, pressing against it occasionally as if in discomfort. She wasn’t walking with her usual energy, her steps just a fraction slower than before.

  At first, Ember thought it might be because of the unfamiliar food they had eaten, but as she observed her longer, a cold realization hit her.

  “…Hey,” Ember spoke, her voice laced with concern. “Are you alright?”

  Elena blinked at her, as if she hadn’t expected the question. She hesitated for a second before shaking her head. “I’m fine.”

  Ember’s brows furrowed. “Is it the food?”

  “No, it’s…” Elena exhaled, looking slightly embarrassed. “It’s my monthly cycle.”

  Ember stopped dead in her tracks.

  Her face turned white.

  Elena, however, just sighed, rubbing at her stomach with a small grimace. “I’m used to it, but today it’s worse than usual.”

  But Ember barely heard her. Her thoughts were already spinning.

  Right. They had talked about this before.

  Ember never had much trouble with her own cycle. After receiving a sigil, the body changed—one of those changes being that the monthly bleeding ceased. Women who had sigils rarely had children, and if they did, it wasn’t until much later in life. That was just how their people were.

  But Elena didn’t have a sigil.

  Which meant—

  She’s bleeding.

  Ember felt a strange panic rise in her chest.

  She swallowed. “What should I do?”

  Elena looked mildly amused at Ember’s reaction but quickly composed herself. “Just take me back to where we’re staying.”

  Ember’s body moved before her mind could fully process. “Right. Okay.”

  She started walking, but after a few steps, she noticed something—Elena wasn’t keeping up.

  Her usual light steps were heavier. Slower.

  A flicker of worry deepened in Ember’s chest.

  She turned, watching as Elena pressed a hand against her lower stomach again, her face pale.

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  That was it. Ember wasn’t going to let her walk like this.

  Without another word, she reached out, grasping Elena’s free hand gently but firmly.

  Elena tensed. “Wha—”

  Ember tugged her along, this time slowing her own pace to match Elena’s.

  She lowered her voice, whispering close to her, “We’re not that far. Just a little more.”

  Elena’s face was already pale, but now, a slight flush of red bloomed across her cheeks. She didn’t resist Ember’s grip, though.

  Instead, she let out a breath, squeezing Ember’s hand in silent gratitude.

  They walked like that, side by side, Ember’s grip steady and reassuring, guiding Elena back to the safety of their room.

  As soon as they reached their room, Elena wasted no time collapsing onto her bed. She let out a relieved sigh, curling slightly on her side, one arm resting over her stomach.

  Ember stood by the door, watching her.

  She wasn’t sure why she was staring. Maybe it was because she wasn’t used to seeing Elena like this—vulnerable, in pain.

  Elena shifted slightly, frowning. “If you’re going to stand there like that, at least talk so it isn’t awkward.”

  Ember snapped out of her thoughts and cleared her throat. Her gaze drifted toward Elena’s stomach, and before she could stop herself, she asked, “Are you… prepared down there?”

  Elena shot up so fast that it startled Ember, but the moment she moved, she winced and clutched her stomach. “O-Of course I am!” she said, her voice high with embarrassment.

  Ember took a step back, sensing the rising frustration in Elena’s tone. “Alright, alright,” she muttered, lifting her hands in defense before moving to sit on her own bed.

  Elena exhaled heavily and laid back down, staring up at the ceiling. A moment of silence passed between them before she mumbled, “You’re lucky, you know… You don’t have to deal with this every month.”

  Ember leaned back on her hands, looking up at the wooden beams of the ceiling. She shrugged. “Yeah. I guess I am.”

  Elena huffed. “No, really. This is awful. And on top of that, every woman is just expected to—” She stopped, biting her lip before finishing, “—expected to have children someday, like it’s the one thing that matters in life.”

  Ember let out a low chuckle, though there was no humor in it. “Yeah. And I hate that.”

  Elena turned her head slightly, looking at her. “Hate what?”

  Ember inhaled, staring ahead at the wall. “All of it. The expectations. The way people just assume every woman wants to be a mother. Or should be one.”

  She scoffed.

  “I don’t want it,” she admitted. “The idea of having a child—” She shook her head. “I don’t like it. I never did.”

  Elena blinked at her. “Why not?”

  Ember sighed, leaning forward slightly, resting her elbows on her knees. “Because I know I wouldn’t be good at it.”

  Her voice was quieter now.

  “I wasn’t exactly raised by a loving family, Elena.” She clenched her hands together, looking down at them. “I was raised by a tribe, yes, but in the end, I was mostly alone. My parents—” She hesitated. “They were good warriors. Good people. But they were not warm.”

  She paused for a second before continuing.

  “I don’t know how to be gentle. I don’t know how to be patient. I barely know how to take care of myself, let alone another life.”

  Elena listened quietly, her brows slightly furrowed.

  Ember swallowed. “And… and even if I could somehow be a good mother, I wouldn’t want to be one.” She turned her head slightly, looking at Elena with a determined gaze. “I don’t want to be tied down. I don’t want to give up my freedom.”

  Her voice grew firmer.

  “I want to climb mountains. I want to see the world. I want to fight, to survive, to live without being chained to some expectation.” She let out a breath. “And having a child… that’s a chain I never want.”

  Silence filled the room.

  Ember exhaled, thinking she had said enough.

  But then—

  A soft, shaky sob reached her ears.

  She turned sharply, her heart clenching at the sight.

  Elena had her hands covering her face, her shoulders trembling as quiet cries escaped her.

  Ember immediately stood up, moving to sit beside her. “What’s wrong?” she asked, voice uncharacteristically gentle.

  Elena sniffled, trying to suppress her tears. “I—” She swallowed. “I wanted a baby.”

  Ember froze.

  For a second, her heart stopped.

  The words hit her harder than she expected.

  Elena wanted a child.

  That meant, one day, she would have one.

  With someone.

  With a man.

  The thought made something inside Ember ache.

  Elena continued, her voice cracking, “I always thought… one day, I’d have a family. That I’d get to be a mother, raise a child, love them in a way I wished I had been loved.” She wiped at her eyes, sniffling. “But now I don’t even know if I’ll live long enough to see that day.”

  Ember swallowed hard. She had no words.

  Because she had never thought about it before.

  One day, Elena would fall in love.

  She would find someone, settle down, have a child, and build a life—one that didn’t include Ember.

  And by then, their journey together would just be a memory.

  Ember clenched her hands.

  She had always thought their time together would last forever.

  But it wouldn’t.

  Because one day, Elena’s future would take her somewhere Ember couldn’t follow.

  And for the first time, Ember felt afraid.

  Elena's sobs grew heavier, her small frame trembling beneath the weight of her memories. Ember sat frozen, her mind struggling to catch up with what she’d just heard.

  "I wanted a baby."

  The words still echoed in her chest, leaving an ache she couldn’t name. But Elena wasn’t done speaking. Her voice wavered, thick with sorrow as she continued, “My parents… they died when I was small. It was a Thalavas attack on Iorph.”

  Ember inhaled sharply.

  She had heard about that attack before—every Iorphian had. But she had never realized that Elena’s parents had been among the ones who had fallen.

  Elena’s breath hitched. “Ania’s parents… they took care of me after that.”

  Ember nodded. That part she knew. Ania and Elena had practically been raised together, though Ania had always been the bolder of the two—louder, sharper, the kind of person who would fight first and talk later. Elena had been softer, but she had clung to Ania like a lifeline.

  But then, Elena said something Ember hadn’t expected.

  “They wanted me to settle down with Eli.”

  Ember’s eyes widened. “Eli?” She scoffed, a sharp and unimpressed sound. “That no-good scaredy-cat? He wasn’t good for you anyway.”

  Elena flinched. “Don’t—” Her voice broke, and she sobbed harder, burying her face in her hands. “Don’t talk about him like that.”

  Ember frowned, unsure why Elena was getting so upset over Eli of all people. “Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked, a slight edge in her voice.

  Elena’s head snapped up, her tear-streaked face contorted with frustration. “Because you weren’t there!” she cried. “You left Iorph, remember? For a decade!”

  A heavy silence fell between them.

  For the first time, Ember felt something she hadn’t allowed herself to feel in years.

  Guilt.

  She had left Iorph.

  She had left Elena.

  And now, hearing it said so plainly, so painfully, it struck her like a blade to the heart.

  She had thought about it before, of course. But never like this. She had always told herself she had no choice. That she had to leave. That Iorph had been suffocating her, that her father—

  Her father.

  Elder Orion. A man who never smiled, never praised, never comforted. He had been an elder first, a father second. Or maybe not a father at all.

  And her mother…

  Ember swallowed hard, memories creeping in like unwelcome shadows.

  Her mother had never received a sigil. And under the expectations of Elder Orion, she had ended her own life.

  A tragedy, they had called it. A sacrifice for the greater good. But Ember had been a child. And all she had understood was that her mother had been there one moment and gone the next.

  That was when Ember had decided she didn’t want to stay.

  That she couldn’t stay.

  So she left.

  And in doing so, she had left Elena behind.

  Elena, who had lost her parents. Elena, who had been taken in by another family. Elena, who had been expected to build a life with Eli—someone Ember knew she never truly wanted.

  Only now did Ember realize how much pain her absence must have caused.

  Her throat tightened as she looked at Elena—her face red from crying, her hands clenched in frustration.

  A perfect life. A home. A family.

  All of it ruined by the Thalavas attack.

  If their race had moved from place to place like the Aelyr, maybe Elena’s parents would still be alive. Maybe she would have lived the life she had dreamed of. Maybe she would have been happy.

  But then—Ember wouldn’t be in her life.

  And selfishly, Ember wasn’t sure if she could bear that.

  But right now, none of that mattered.

  Right now, Elena was hurting.

  And Ember hated seeing her like this.

  So, without thinking, she reached forward.

  She placed her hand on Elena’s head, her fingers threading lightly through her hair. It was an awkward, unsure gesture—Ember had never been good at comforting people. But it was the only thing she could think to do.

  “I’m here now,” she whispered.

  Elena sniffled, but didn’t pull away.

  Ember let out a slow breath. “I can’t change the past. I can’t undo what happened. And I know… I know I wasn’t there when you needed me.” Her voice was soft, almost hesitant. “But I’m here now. And I’m not leaving again.”

  Elena’s shoulders trembled. Slowly, her hands uncurled from her lap, and she reached up, gripping Ember’s wrist.

  A silent acceptance.

  Ember squeezed her eyes shut.

  Maybe she couldn’t give Elena the life she had lost.

  But she could make sure she never felt alone again.

  Ember kept her arms around Elena, her movements careful, almost uncertain. The warmth of Elena's body against her own was unfamiliar, yet strangely… natural. The weight of her head resting on Ember’s arm, the soft rise and fall of her breath—it all felt right in a way she didn’t quite understand.

  Elena pressed closer, nestling against Ember’s chest. “I just need the warmth,” she mumbled, her voice barely above a whisper.

  Ember stiffened for a moment but forced herself to relax. It was just for comfort. Just to make Elena feel better.

  They lay there in silence, the rhythmic sound of their breathing filling the space between them. Ember’s fingers twitched slightly where they rested on Elena’s back, unsure of whether she should move or stay still. She could feel the faint shivers still running through Elena’s body, the lingering remnants of her earlier distress.

  Then, out of nowhere, Elena spoke.

  “I never loved Eli.”

  Ember blinked.

  She tilted her head down, trying to get a look at Elena’s face, but all she saw was red hair against her chest.

  “What?” she asked, her voice laced with confusion.

  Elena sighed, her body shifting slightly against Ember’s. Now that she had calmed down, her voice was steadier, more even. “I never loved him,” she repeated. “Not the way people thought I did.”

  Ember remained silent, waiting for her to continue.

  Elena’s fingers curled slightly into Ember’s shirt. “I only ever wanted to return the favor to Ania’s parents. They took me in after my parents died, gave me a home, treated me like their own. And marrying Eli… it felt like the only way I could properly repay them.”

  Ember frowned. “That’s ridiculous,” she muttered.

  “I know,” Elena admitted, a slight chuckle in her voice, though it lacked any real humor. “But at the time, it didn’t seem that way. I thought it was the right thing to do. I thought… I thought I owed them that much.”

  Ember let out a slow breath, her grip on Elena tightening slightly. “You didn’t need to do that,” she said firmly.

  Elena shook her head against her chest. “I didn’t know that back then. I was just a kid, trying to make sense of everything. Trying to find a way to hold onto the only family I had left.”

  Ember sighed, her fingers lightly tracing small circles on Elena’s back without thinking. “You’ve always been too selfless,” she murmured.

  Elena let out another breathy chuckle. “And now, looking back, it all feels so stupid.” She paused for a moment, then added, “I didn’t even stop to think about what I actually wanted. What I was capable of.”

  Ember glanced down at her again, her expression softening. She lifted one hand from Elena’s back and cupped her cheek gently, tilting her face up just enough to meet her eyes.

  “I’ve always known you were capable of more than just… a normal life,” Ember said quietly, her thumb brushing lightly against Elena’s skin.

  Elena’s breath caught slightly, her eyes searching Ember’s.

  “But,” Ember continued, her voice softer now, “that doesn’t mean you don’t deserve one, too.”

  Elena swallowed hard, her lips parting slightly as if she wanted to say something—but no words came.

  Instead, she leaned just a little closer, her forehead brushing against Ember’s collarbone.

  Ember didn’t pull away.

  She just held her there, feeling the warmth between them, listening to the steady sound of Elena’s breathing.

  Ember studied Elena’s face in the dim morning light—the way her deep eyes held unspoken emotions, the soft waves of her dark hair framing her delicate features. Never in her life had she thought she could feel this much for a person.

  Without thinking, she lowered her forehead against Elena’s.

  It was a fleeting, instinctive motion—one she barely registered herself. She let her eyes close, just for a moment, savoring the warmth between them. The way their breaths mingled. The way it felt like they were the only two people in the world.

  Elena let out a soft breath, her body unconsciously leaning into the touch. Her heart pounded in her chest, and for the first time in a long while, she didn’t mind the feeling. It was… comforting. Safe. She wanted this moment to last forever.

  But it didn’t.

  Just as the feeling settled, Ember suddenly pulled away, sitting up straight with a sharp inhale. “Something’s coming.”

  Elena blinked, still lost in the sensation of their closeness. “Huh—?”

  Ember didn’t answer. She swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood up, her movements quick and controlled as if she needed to escape something intangible. She walked to the door, placed her hand on the handle, and pulled it open—revealing Kaelen, who was just about to knock.

  He raised an eyebrow at her abruptness but simply greeted her with a slight nod. “Good morning.”

  Ember crossed her arms, keeping her expression neutral. “What do you want?”

  Kaelen smirked. “Just checking in. I figured you two might need something.”

  Ember hesitated for a fraction of a second before replying, “Wait here.” And then, without another word, she shut the door in his face.

  Turning back to Elena, she asked, “Do you need anything?”

  Elena quickly shook her head, avoiding Ember’s gaze. “No.”

  Ember didn’t press further. She simply nodded, then turned back toward the door and opened it again.

  Kaelen was still standing there, arms crossed. “Took you long enough.”

  “We don’t need anything,” Ember said flatly, stepping slightly forward as if to close the conversation before it could start.

  Kaelen, however, didn’t move just yet. He studied her for a moment before finally saying, “We leave tomorrow.”

  Ember’s brows furrowed. “Tomorrow?”

  Kaelen nodded. “The elders decided this morning. We’ll be moving at dawn. You should both get some rest and be ready.”

  He didn’t wait for a response, simply offering a small nod before turning on his heel and walking away.

  Ember watched him go, her fingers tightening slightly around the edge of the door. They had just arrived, and now they were already moving again? She let out a slow breath before closing the door and turning back to Elena.

  Elena had sat up now, pulling her knees close to her chest. “Tomorrow…?”

  Ember exhaled, running a hand through her hair. “Yeah.”

  Silence filled the space between them, the weight of constant movement settling on their shoulders. But even through that, Ember could still feel the ghost of their earlier closeness, the warmth that lingered just beneath her skin.

  She shook the thought away. “You should rest.”

  The afternoon sun filtered through the wooden walls, casting soft patterns of light across the room. Elena, finally succumbing to exhaustion, lay curled up on the bed, her breathing slow and even. Ember barely moved, careful not to wake her.

  With a slow breath, she reached for the map Kaelen had given them earlier. Spreading it across her lap, she traced the marked routes with her fingers. The Aelyr’s path stretched longer, winding through the vast expanse of Golust’s forests, following the natural terrain. If they traveled independently, they could reach their destination in just four or five days—but at the cost of safety and knowledge.

  It’s better to move with them. The thought settled in her mind like a fact. Traveling with the Aelyr meant understanding the land, learning how they survived here. The Iorphians weren’t weak, but they had spent too long rooted in one place. The Aelyr understood movement, the way the world shifted and changed.

  Her thoughts drifted. The elder of the nest—she hadn’t met them yet. That was something she would need to fix as soon as Elena woke up. It was a matter of respect, something her father would have scolded her for forgetting.

  She frowned, pushing that thought aside. Instead, her eyes flickered back to Elena, still deep in sleep. The earlier moment between them replayed in her mind—foreheads touching, warmth lingering between them. The way Elena had relaxed against her, how she had whispered softly, how their breaths had synced for that brief, perfect moment.

  Ember exhaled sharply and ran a hand through her hair.

  What was that?

  She had always cared for Elena, always protected her, but…this was different. This felt different.

  But more than anything, it left her confused.

  She thought back to the way Elena had looked at her, the slight shift in her breath, the softness in her voice. Was that just comfort? Or was it something more?

  Did Elena like her?

  Ember’s fingers curled around the edge of the map. What if she does? A strange feeling stirred in her chest, something both terrifying and exhilarating. But right alongside it was another thought—What if she doesn’t?

  Her grip tightened. It doesn’t matter. She wasn’t going to ruin things over a stupid feeling.

  Sighing, she folded the map back up and set it aside. She glanced at Elena once more. I should rest too, she thought.

  Ember lay back against the bed, staring up at the wooden ceiling. The soft sounds of the nest outside filtered in—the distant chatter of Aelyr, the occasional rustling of leaves as creatures moved through the trees. But none of it settled the storm in her mind.

  Her thoughts circled back, again and again, to what Elena had said earlier.

  "I wanted a baby."

  The words still echoed in her ears, tugging at something deep inside her. She had never thought about it before, never needed to think about it. Iorphians with sigils rarely had children. She never cared. If anything, she preferred it. She had never imagined herself as a mother, never wanted that kind of responsibility.

  But Elena had.

  If they ever… if they ever ended up together, could she give Elena what she wanted? No. She already knew the answer.

  Ember turned on her side, facing Elena’s sleeping figure. Her dark hair spilled across the pillow, her face peaceful, undisturbed by the turmoil Ember was feeling.

  It might just be an emotional thing, she told herself. Maybe Elena had only said it because she was feeling vulnerable, because she was in pain. Maybe it didn’t really matter. Maybe Ember was just overthinking it.

  But another part of her—the part that had spent years running away from her feelings—knew better.

  She shut her eyes. It’s fine. It doesn’t matter.

  Despite the bright afternoon light streaming in, despite her restless thoughts, Ember let exhaustion pull her under.