Page 117 of The Huntmaster

My throat closed up, tears pricking the backs of my eyes. "Sora..."

"Mara came to see me this morning," Sora continued softly, a flash of deep disappointment and hurt darkening her face. "She confessed everything. She told me what she did to you, and how she betrayed the Nest in her grief. I am so disgusted... so utterly heartbroken by her choices." Sora reached out and squeezed my hands tightly. "Thank you, Lyra. Thank you for choosing mercy. Thank you for seeing her pain and giving my friend a chance to earn back her soul instead of letting Kaelen execute her."

"She was lost, Sora," I said quietly, squeezing her hands back. "We couldn't let Sila ruin one more life."

Sora gave a wet, genuine laugh and nodded in agreement. "You're right. Oh, and your human friend, Tyler—he refused to leave the healers' hut. He was snoring in a chair when Toren opened his eyes. The first thing Toren did with his good hand was throw a dried herb bundle at Tyler's head and tell him he looked like a drowned Vakra."

A bright laugh burst from my chest. "Yup. Toren is definitely going to be just fine."

By midday, the entire camp gathered near the central square.

Kaelen stood beside me at the edge of the Huntmaster's platform, his bare hand anchored warm and solid around my waist. Sky stood on my other side, holding my fingers, looking out over the crowd with bright, curious eyes instead of fear.

A little ways off near the edge of the square, Tyler leaned against a carved timber post. His shoulders were still slightly hitched, his posture guarded and tense as he cautiously watched the tall, horned warriors moving past him—clearly still struggling with how to feel around 'good' aliens after everything he'd been through. But he was fed, washed, and staying put instead of hiding away. It was a step forward, either way.

Even Mara stood near the back of the crowd, quietly helping the lower-root workers haul timber without complaint—taking her first steps toward earning back trust.

Kaelen lifted his hand, and a respectful hush fell over the assembly, stretching thick and expectant across the canopy.

"People of the Nest!" Kaelen’s voice thundered, carrying into the highest branches of the Great Tree with absolute, commanding power. "The darkness beneath our feet has been conquered! Sila’s shadow has been cast out, and the ancient rot that stalked our borders is no more!"

A low, resonant murmur rippled through the vanguard, but Kaelen held up his blade hand, driving the crowd into an attentive, profound silence.

"We have bled to stand here today. We have lost kin whose laughter once filled these walkways, warriors whose steel defended our very roots. We carry their names in our hearts, and we will honour the fallen—not with quiet mourning, but by ensuring the home they died protecting never falls again." He paused, his sharp golden gaze sweeping across the clearing, lingering on the former captives and the Vakra who had suffered under Sila's and Geth’s cruelty. "The cycle of fear ends today. To those dragged into the dark, to those who have suffered under Geth's and Sila’s rule... you are captive no longer. The Nest opens its arms to you. Our fires are your fires. Our walls are your protection. We rebuild together—timber by timber, branch by branch."

"I know many of you have looked upon the tear above us and wondered what it means," he said, his voice quieter now, though no less certain. "I have asked myself the same question. I do not know what waits beyond it, nor whether it will ever bring another trial to our world."

"But hear me now." his voice rang through the square once more. "We did not survive the darkness beneath our feet only to live in fear of the sky above our heads. Whatever that wound may hold... we will face it together, just as we have faced every trial before it."

A murmur of agreement spread through the crowd, growing into the steady beat of fists against chests. Fear still lingered in many faces, but beneath it, something stronger had begun to take root. Only then did Kaelen turn his gaze down to me, his golden eyes blazing with open, fierce devotion that made my throat tighten and my heart race along our bond.

"We stand today because we fought as one," Kaelen continued, his voice dropping into a lower, warmer rumble that still resonated through every chest in the square. "And because the Alu'un delivered a mate to this Nest who taught us that strength is not measured merely in the striking of a blade... but in mercy, unity, and the courage to hope when all light is gone."

He reached down, weaving his thick fingers through mine, and lifted our entwined hands high into the golden sunlight.

The entire clearing erupted. Rhythmic drumming vibrated through the floorboards beneath our bare feet, paired with the deafening, triumphant roar of warriors, elders, and freed captives alike cheering as one.

As the crowd slowly dispersed and the daily work resumed, Kaelen's demeanour shifted, the relaxed warmth in his posture hardening back into a leader’s practical focus.

"I need to assemble a small scout team," Kaelen said low, turning to me as we stepped off the platform. "I must descend back into the deep crusts. I want to see Sila's body with my own eyes to confirm her death, and we need to sweep the collapsed caverns to ensure no surviving Vakra from her vanguard are lurking in the dark.” He paused. “I will not bury this Nest beneath false hope.”

"I'm coming with you," I said immediately.

Kaelen frowned, his jaw setting. "Lyra, no. You need to rest. The lower tunnels are unstable and⁠—"

"Kaelen," I interrupted, placing my hand flat against his chest, feeling his double heartbeats against my palm. "I'm coming. If any tech is still salvageable from that ancient console, I need to see it. Plus, the rescued captives and Tyler may have left things behind. We need to clear it out properly."

He stared down at me, searching my face for any sign of hesitation. Seeing only firm determination, he let out a low sigh, though his golden eyes softened with undeniable pride.

"You are relentless, little star," he murmured, his hand coming up to cup my cheek.

"I'm your mate," I reminded him with a soft smirk. "You should be used to it by now."

"Never," he whispered, leaning down to press a hard, lingering kiss to my lips. "Pack your gear. We ride before the second sun sets."

Chapter 73

Lyra