Aria’s POV

The scent of smoke still lingered everywhere. Even after the healers scrubbed the floors and replaced the burned curtains, the air carried a faint hint of ash ... like a ghost that wouldn’t want to say goodbye.

Elliot’s funeral pyre had burned throughout the night. I watched from the edge of the clearing, hidden behind the trees, my hands trembling as the flames consumed the last good man Damon had trusted. The fire crackled and hissed, and each spark that soared felt like a ...