Chapter 117

Mara’s POV

At the hunter’s cabin, I fed my mare and built a small fire from the dry wood Lucien had left there weeks earlier. I couldn't cross the pass safely after dark. I refused to turn anger into proof that I needed Ronan to save me.

The fire took three tries. My fingers were stiff inside the gloves, and the first sparks died in damp tinder. When it finally caught, I sat with my back against the wall and listened for another horse on the road. None came. I had asked Ronan to let me go, and he had listened. The quiet was a relief that hurt in its own way.

When I took off my gloves, my palm was red where it had touched the Witness mark. The skin was unbroken. Ilyra had checked it twice. Her signed objection lay in my satchel; she had given me a copy before I left the refuge. The injury I kept looking for was harder to name.

Ronan