Clarke
I led the way into the dark cave, forcing my breath to stay even. The shadows on the walls stretched and curled like living things, but I kept reminding myself—they were only shadows. Tricks of dim light. Nothing more.
The narrow entrance widened into a broad chamber, large enough for several horses to stand shoulder to shoulder. Ahead, a faint glow seeped through the stone—soft, steady, beckoning us forward like a promise.
Hestia relaxed the moment we crossed the creek. Her steps grew lighter, more deliberate, her head bobbing in quiet contentment. It was as if she sensed something I couldn’t—that this place was safe, that we were meant to be here.
Colton and Delia positioned themselves throughout the herd, guiding the horses into the passageway with practiced ease.
Ethan and Avalon stayed toward the back, catching stragglers and nudging them forward.
Slowly, the whirring of the helicopter faded behind us, swallowed by stone and distance, until all that remained were the sharp, echoing clicks of hooves against rock.
I lingered until the herd passed me and fell into step beside Delia. She looked exhausted—her wedding dress torn and grass-stained, her hair falling from its pins—but she held herself with a kind of stubborn grace. Her game face.
“I’m sorry for ruining your wedding night,” I murmured.
Delia turned to me with a tired but genuine smile. “Are you kidding?” She glanced toward my brother, who was guiding a skittish mare through the narrowest part of the tunnel. “I couldn’t have asked for a more perfect day. It was so… us.”
I frowned, tightening my grip on Hestia’s reins. “What do you mean by us?”
Delia shrugged, glancing over her shoulder again. I followed her gaze—Ethan closing the distance between us, Avalon in the back watching Colton demonstrate something with the reins. Her eyes lit up when she copied him successfully, her head lifting instinctively, searching for approval.
Always searching. Always hoping someone would be proud of her. How many times had she looked at me like that when I wasn’t paying attention? How many times had she looked at her parents like that and received nothing?
It didn’t matter. Things were going to change.
I was in her life now. She would never have to search for pride again—it would already be written on my face every time I looked at her.
She had grown so much this summer, and she’d done it herself.
Avalon Kennedy was stronger than she would ever admit.
Delia nodded toward my brother. “Just the four of us—plus Avalon, of course. It felt like old times. Before we grew up and drifted apart.”
I worked the smooth leather reins between my fingers, grounding myself. “Have we truly grown apart, Lia?”
“Oh, Clarke.” Her voice softened. “You didn’t tell me about Avalon until weeks after the incident. I didn’t tell you about your brother for over a year.” She paused, her words settling into the quiet. “I don’t think it was intentional. Life just… happens.”
I nodded, thinking back to all the moments we could’ve lost each other without realizing it. “Can we promise to try and go back to the way things were?”
Delia’s green eyes sparkled like emeralds in the dim light. “I don’t think things can ever go back to how they were. But that doesn’t mean they can’t get better.”
She held out her hand. I slipped mine into hers, our fingers intertwining.
“We can find ways to make our friendship adapt to our new lives.”
This time, my smile felt real. But as much as I wanted to stay in this moment, letting my mind drift somewhere peaceful, getting these horses through the passageway—getting them somewhere Hanover wouldn’t dare follow—was all that mattered.
The deeper we went, the softer the helicopter blades became. A slow ease settled over my shoulders. They would be okay. We would be okay.
Eventually, the passage opened into a vast, bowl-shaped field.
Rolling hills stretched for miles, dotted with the last hints of summer flowers.
Tall trees arched overhead, offering shade and privacy.
A shallow creek cut through the center, feeding the grass and wildflowers that seemed greener, brighter, more alive than anywhere else.
“Holy fucking shit,” Avalon breathed. “Is this…”
“Paradise?” I offered.
“Heaven,” Delia corrected softly. Tears glistened in her eyes. “We’ve found a tiny piece of heaven, Clarke. You did it.”
The smile that broke across my face felt too big for my skin. Had I really done it? Had I really set them free?
A blur of movement caught my eye—then another, then another. Horses thundered past us, grays and creams and deep browns blending together as they raced into their new sanctuary.
Home.
“You did it, Kid.” Colton’s voice cracked with emotion I’d rarely heard from him. His large hand settled on my shoulder as I slid off Hestia, giving it a firm, grounding squeeze.
The earth vibrated beneath my boots as the herd ran past, but more than that—I could feel their joy. Their relief. Their freedom. It was magic. Pure, unfiltered magic.
There were only a handful of moments in my life where words felt too small to hold the weight of what I felt—moments that carved themselves into memory.
And as those moments flickered through my mind, they took shape. Colors. Feelings. A presence. Dark at first. Then pale white, like Magnolia’s fresh milk. Then grey, storm-cloud grey.
Avalon. Her hand slid into mine, fingers locking with mine. Her touch grounded me, pulled me into the present. With her, my mind didn’t wander into dark corners. I didn’t have to pretend. I didn’t have to hide.
She had seen the real me—the messy, scared, angry, grieving me—and she stayed. Every moment this summer, good or painful, came back to her. She had been there through all of it. My anchor.
My hope.
I lifted our joined hands and kissed her knuckles. She smiled, biting her lower lip as she rose onto her toes.
“They’re free, Clarke,” she whispered, cupping my cheek. “You saved them. With your quick thinking and determination. You did that. Be proud.”
“I am,” I breathed. “But more than that… more importantly…” My voice faltered, but I pushed through. “I think I’m in love with you, Avalon Kennedy—no. I know I’m in love with you.”
Her eyes widened, her mouth parting. Shock. Wonder. Something unspoken flickering across her features. “You… you love me?” she whispered.
I nodded, cupping her face. “With a fierce conviction. I am in love with you. Do you understand that?”
She shifted, almost as if she wanted to run—but I needed her to hear this.
“I think I’ve been in love with you for months,” I said softly. “Since the moment I saw you in my daddy’s office. And I’ve been too scared to admit it. Too scared to give you another chance to hurt me.”
Her face fell—thinking of last spring—but I caught her chin gently.
“But I don’t care anymore. My heart—break it, use it, shatter it—it’s yours.”
Avalon let out a watery laugh. “But why me? Why would you let me have that kind of power? There’s nothing special about me. Why—how could someone like you love someone like me?”
I wanted to shake her until the truth stuck. Instead, I kissed her. I pulled her into my arms, her hands looping around my neck, my hands settling at her waist.
“It doesn’t need to make sense,” I murmured against her lips. “It just is. And it will be—until my heart gives out and my mouth stops working.”
She giggled, tugging my hat off my head. The wind tangled our hair together—light and dark strands mixing like they belonged that way.
“That’s a bit much,” she teased. “Especially for me.”
“It’s not nearly enough,” I whispered, kissing her again. “Especially for you.”