THE UNBROKEN

Siobhan didn't scream.

She didn't weep.

She didn't even flinch as the estate burned behind her, roaring into cinders, the smoke curling skyward like incense to gods she'd never believed in.

She simply turned to her advisors, her eyes glowing with cold, white fire.

"Declare her a fugitive," she said, smoothing her black gloves. "Let every paper in Veracchia print the truth: that the so-called 'Mother of Storms' is nothing but a witch and a thief."

The men hesitated.

"And the child?" one asked carefully. "Esperanza…?"

Siobhan smiled, but it didn't touch her eyes.

"Illegitimate," she said flatly. "A bastard born of chaos. We'll have the union annulled. Their so-called bond means nothing under Veracchian law."

A beat.

"And tell the parliament- if they don't stand with House Matteo, they'll burn next."

Far from the smoldering ruin of the estate, the storm-born family walked a hidden path through the dense woods just west of the old trade roads.

No trails.

No spells.

No one but the trees to watch them pass.

Niegal carried Esperanza in a sling across his chest, her curls tucked under a soft scarf, her thumb in her mouth. Elena walked just behind, alert but steady, her blade hidden under her long traveling cloak.

They had stopped trusting maps.

Stopped trusting inns.

Stopped trusting the law.

Their only destination now was the hidden sanctuary of the Children of the Storm and Lion—the old cult who remembered the truths even the Church had tried to erase. If anyone could shield them from Siobhan's wrath, it would be them.

Still, the road was long. And the weight of what they'd lost hung heavier than any pack.

They made camp beneath an old yuca tree just before dusk. Esperanza played quietly with a carved wooden hawk that Niegal had whittled for her. Elena sat beside him, curling into his side, breath low and careful.

She broke the silence first.

"The Behike said we were bonded before we even understood it. That our souls were already tied."

Niegal nodded slowly, his arm slipping around her waist.

"And now, there's no going back."

They sat in silence for a moment, only the crackling fire between them.

Elena swallowed hard. Her voice dropped.

"But what if we were never supposed to be? What if our bond… cursed the others?"

Niegal tensed. He didn't ask what she meant.

They both knew.

Seamus. Kenneth. Cheri.

Gone. Burned. Lost. Left behind in the fire their love had lit.

"I loved them," she whispered. "Even the ones I didn't always say it to. And now they're ghosts in the wake of us."

Niegal's jaw flexed.

He didn't speak.

Because he was thinking the same thing.

That maybe the gods didn't just bless them.

Maybe they demanded a price.

A soft rustle.

Then tiny arms wrapped around them both.

Esperanza.

Eyes big, mouth full of words too small to speak yet, but her face pressed against Elena's shoulder, her hand reaching out to pat her father's scarred cheek.

Her little voice said nothing.

But the hug said it all.

They held her back just as tight.

The guilt didn't vanish.

But it softened, for now, into the ache of something sacred. Something more than grief.

They weren't just alive.

They were together.

And tomorrow, they'd find the Children of Storm and Lion.

Together.