Page 124 of Ashes of Honor

Adelaide shook her head fiercely, looking every bit a Moore, her grip tightened. “No! Want you!”

Serenity crouched beside them, tears staining her cheeks. “I know, baby. I know it’s hard. But remember when mommy and daddy told you the story about the people who saved the world? It’s our turn to help.” Her voice wavered, she brushed a soft hand over Adelaide’s face as she nodded.

Hunter kissed Adelaide’s forehead, “Be brave for us,” he whispered.

Serenity finally pried Adelaide’s hands free, lifting her into her arms one last time. She hugged her daughter close, swaying gently as if she could soothe them both. Then, with trembling hands, she passed Adelaide to Luna. “Please, keep her safe.”

Luna’s arms wrapped around the little girl and said, “With everything I have.”

Hunter and Serenity lingered for a moment longer, their gazes locked on Adelaide as if they could will this parting not to hurt. Then, wordlessly, they turned toward Caleb, offered him a nod that stated they’d all already said their goodbyes and stepped back toward the transport. Hunter’s arm wrapped tightly around Serenity’s shoulders as her quiet sobs broke the silence.

One by one, soldiers readied to move. Riley stood near the back, his jaw set as he watched everyone settle. Reina was by his side, her arms crossed tightly over her chest, her usual soft expression sharpened by Jessa at her side.I really needed to find a way to get rid of her.Yasmin, I could tolerate. She loved Riley and Riley was clearly beyond smitten with her. But the clingy blonde shadow who didn’t know when to leave my sister alone? That was a problem I’d have to solve later.

Amaia hadn’t moved. She stood rooted near the gates, staring at The Compound as though it was both her greatest triumph and her deepest regret. For a moment, I thought she might stay. Her shoulders tensed, her hands clenching at her sides as if holding herself together.

“Amaia,” Riley called out, his voice steady. “We do our jobs out there and that will make sure we always have a reason to come back.”

Amaia turned her head slightly, enough for the corner of her mouth to twitch in acknowledgment. She finally turned, her boots crunching against the hard ground as she stalked down the road. Alexiares and I hesitated, exchanging another glance.

Neither of us followed right away. We both hesitated, watching her. Amaia’s movements were measured, but they lacked the fire she usually carried. There was no anger, no defiance. Just silence.

“What is it?” Alexiares asked quietly, his voice barely audible over the wind.

I shook my head. “I don’t know.”

The Kentucky borderwas a distant dream. One measured not in miles but in the unrelenting crunch of boots on asphalt. The groan of solar vehicles struggled against harsh elements, and the weary plod of horses who, like the rest of us, smelled like shit and appeared to be reconsidering life choices.

Weeks of snaking through the fractured highways had taken us from Arizona’s blistering sun to New Mexico’s eerie silence and, finally, into Texas, which was still Texas: too big, too bold, and far too stubborn. The wanderers there clung to the land, convinced they’d inherited it from the universe itself, not realizing how far their roots had rotted.

I sat perched on a supply cart near the front of the caravan. Dust clung to every surface, including my teeth. I wiped at my mouth for the tenth time that morning, spitting the grit to the side. The scent of sweat and worn leather mingled with the sharper tang of the horses.

Other settlements had joined us along the way, a serpentine force winding through a fractured country. Albuquerque had been the first real rallying point. Honestly, the city was barely holding itself together. With most of Transient Nation having the wits to flee,ghost townwasn’t an exaggeration.

Scouts had timed the rendezvous points perfectly. They ran themselves ragged between settlements, ensuring each group arrived like clockwork. A job completed with such precision that by the time we reached Oklahoma City, the force had grown into something resembling an army. As each convoy added to the mass, more than soldiers arrived. Each settlement hadarrived with supplies and healers to dole out—to share. The most conflicting arrivals had been loved ones who’d volunteered.

They’d come because they couldn’t bear to let their people fight alone. Brave, stupid, or both—I couldn’t decide. I wasn’t sure which was worse: to lose someone in battle or to lose them while they held your hand.

Kansas was a hard pass. Traitorous bastards—they’d not shown when it came time to move out. That only meant one thing.

“Why isn’t he stopping us?” I’d asked Alexiares as healers worked to address the wounds of the last prisoners we’d managed to set free. There were hundreds of them. It went far beyond Hunter’s caravan. We’d found residents from Salem and The Expanse whose loved ones had thought long dead … Ronan’s own citizens too.

“Because he doesn’t have to,” he said, sharpening his blade.

I hated how easily he said it. I hated that he was right.

Weather became our greatest threat the second we hit Oklahoma, pelting us with rain that turned the roads into mud traps. Horses slipped, carts got stuck, and food was lost. Still, morale was at a high.

That wasn’t to say there wasn’t fighting. No. There was plenty of that—just not the kind that left bodies on the roadside. Leadership clashed constantly, and I had half the mind to stick them in a circle and tell them to hash it out with their fists.

Amaia, of course, was the exception. It was unnerving. She kept her focus on the bigger picture, detached from the smaller dramas. She wasthe generalnow, and though we all felt it as her family, we couldn’t name what had changed within her. The plan to split into two forces once we hit Kentucky was brilliant—strategically sound, even poetic in its ambition—but it was also the perfect fuel for arguments.

Two weeks out from Kentucky and the constant tugging within my mind was going to drive me insane. There was something the universe had intended for me to see, but I could not. Not with Ronan safely tucked behind his wards. Still, I listened—and still I tried.

Ronan was still waiting for us—or not. That was the problem. The camps we liberated were eerily unguarded, their soldiers apathetic at best. Hundreds of prisoners stumbled out of those hellholes, their freedom too easy. Salem. The Expanse. Even Covert’s own people. It didn’t make sense.

It was against that backdrop of unease that the plan to split forces ignited the argument of the century. I’d never seen Riley and her go at it with such intensity, never seen such piercing rage flow through him. No small amounts of Reina’s magic had calmed the situation.

Two routes: one safer, one a gamble.

---