The wind stirred through the trees, carrying the scent of damp earth and pine as I followed Asher through the darkened forest. My steps were steady, but inside, I was unraveling. Every breath felt heavier, every thought louder. I had done it—I had walked away from Magnus. But instead of feeling victorious, a strange hollowness settled in my chest.
I clutched the cloak wrapped around my shoulders, my fingers digging into the fabric. I had told myself I wouldn’t look back, but my mind replayed the moment over and over. When the Crimson Pack had surrounded Magnus, I could have let them finish him. I could have stood there and watched, let them tear him apart the way he had torn me apart.
But I couldn't. Even after everything, I had told them to let him go.
The memory burned in my mind—the way Magnus had looked at me, his silver eyes unreadable as I made my choice. He had expected me to be cruel, to seek revenge. Instead, I had left him with nothing. Not mercy. Not forgiveness. Just silence.
"You did the right thing," Asher said beside me, his voice calm, as if he could hear my thoughts. "Killing him wouldn’t have changed anything."