The hunters left.
Some walked away in silence. Others lingered, asking questions that Lyra didn't have answers for. Marcus stayed. He sat on a stone at the edge of the lake, staring at the water.
The presence beneath the altar was quiet now. Not gone—resting. Healing.
"You should go," Lyra said to Marcus. "Back to the Council. Tell them what happened."
"They won't believe me."
"Some will. Your father won't. But some will." She paused. "You're not the same person who came here. Neither am I. That has to count for something."
Marcus looked at her. His eyes were his own again—blue, not empty. "You really love him. The wolf."
"Kael. His name is Kael."
"You love Kael."
"Yes."
He nodded slowly. "I thought I loved you. Or could love you. But I was just... performing. Following a script the Silent Ones wrote for me." He stood. "I'm sorry. For everything."
"Apology accepted."
He walked away, disappearing into the trees. Lyra watched him go. She didn't know if he would make it back to the Council, or what he would say if he did. But that was his journey now.
Kael came up behind her. His arms wrapped around her waist.
"The third bond is restored," he said. "All three are awake."
"What happens now?"
"I don't know. The prophecy said the choice would be ours. Shattering or healing. We chose healing."
"Then what?"
He turned her to face him. "Then we go home. And we start telling people the truth. About the alliance. About the Silent Ones. About us."
"That's going to be hard."
"Yes."
"People won't believe us."
"Some won't."
"It might start another war."
"Or end one."
She looked into his amber eyes. The warmth there was real. Earned.
"Okay," she said. "Let's go home."