Nathan's POV

The world smelled like smoke. Not the kind from torches or campfires, this was the kind that clung to blood, torn earth, and corpses. The aftermath of magic. The aftermath of betrayal.

We had won but victory felt like ash in my mouth.

I stood at the edge of the battlefield, the wind catching at what was left of my shirt, the fabric scorched where the witch’s power had collided with mine. The ground was cracked, still pulsing faintly where my power had torn through it. The air ...