Page 46 of Beast in the Badlands
CHAPTER 35
RENN
The sun hangs low in the sky, casting a golden hue over the makeshift graves outside the med zone. Each mound of earth represents a life lost, a story cut short. The survivors gather quietly, forming a solemn circle around the fresh soil. I stand beside Kairon, feeling the weight of grief pressing down on us all.
Emry stands at the forefront, her hands clasped tightly together. She glances at each grave as if she can summon their spirits back for one last moment. Ava stands beside her, a steady presence in her sleek tactical gear. The wind whispers through the trees, carrying with it echoes of the battle—shouts and cries now silenced by time and tragedy.
I catch Kairon's eye, and he nods toward Emry. “Didn’t think I’d see the day you’d be mated. Never figured you for the type.”
I chuckle softly, despite the heaviness in my chest. “There was a time I thought the same about you.” My gaze drifts toward Nyra, who sits apart from us, sharpening her blade with meticulous focus. The way she works is almost ritualistic—she could be performing an incantation instead of preparing for war.
“Next thing you know,” I say with a smirk, “it’ll be Nyra’s turn.”
Kairon’s laughter erupts like thunder amidst the silence of our gathering. It’s infectious; I can’t help but join him. “Now that would be a fucking disaster,” he adds between chuckles.
Nyra glances up at us with a scowl that quickly morphs into an amused grin before she resumes her work, sharpening that blade like it’s a reflection of her mood—dangerous yet precise.
The laughter fades into an uncomfortable quiet as Emry takes a step forward to address those gathered. Her voice trembles slightly but holds firm as she speaks to them about loss and resilience—the need to honor those who fought and fell alongside us. Her words resonate deeply within me; she has always had this uncanny ability to lift spirits even when darkness looms.
“Today we remember them,” she says softly, her eyes glistening as they sweep across our ragged group. “They fought for each other and for every person still breathing.”
As she speaks, my heart swells with pride for her strength, tempered by sorrow for what we’ve lost and what lies ahead. She deserves better than this—better than chaos and death—but here we are.
Ava stands beside Emry with quiet resolve; their bond is evident in how they support one another without words. They’ve both endured so much already.
Kairon leans closer to me, his voice low so only I can hear him over Emry’s speech. “You know she sees you differently now,” he says thoughtfully.
“Yeah?” I reply quietly.
“Yeah,” he confirms with an approving nod toward Emry. “You stayed. That's all she wanted.”
The truth sinks deep within me—a flicker of warmth amidst the sorrow swirling around us. The way Emry looks at me shifts something inside—a fierce protectiveness wrapped in tenderness.
The ceremony continues as they place flowers atop each grave; some of them offer whispered goodbyes while others stand silent in reverence.
I watch as Ava and Emry approach, their expressions shifting with the weight of our surroundings. Ava slides into Kairon’s side, a familiar comfort that brings a sense of calm. The connection between them feels palpable, something solid amidst the wreckage around us.
Ava glances at me, her voice steady as she says, “We’ll wait on the ship.”
Emry’s hand slips into mine, fingers weaving together like they were always meant to fit. Her warmth sends a jolt through me—both a reminder of what I have and what I could lose.
“They’re going to rebuild,” Emry says, her gaze distant yet focused. “Try to strengthen themselves. We may have won against the Red Maw, but there will always be another.”
I nod, feeling the truth in her words sink deep within me. She speaks with conviction, eyes shining with resolve even in this desolate place. It makes my chest tighten.
Then she lowers her voice, almost as if afraid to break the fragile moment between us. “Ava told me everything. About being mated.”
The admission hangs heavy in the air. My heart races; fear mixes with something like hope as I search her face for a hint of what she feels.
“Will you come with me now?” I ask, needing her beside me—away from this chaos. With me.
Her hesitation lasts just a breath but feels like an eternity. I can see the conflict etched across her features—the struggle between loyalty to this land and desire for something more.
“I’ve never known anything except this place,” she admits softly.
I reach up to touch her chin gently, guiding her gaze back to mine. “Let me show you. There’s more than war and ruins out there.”
Her smile is faint yet radiant, lighting up the shadows beneath her eyes. “I don’t need to see any other worlds. Mine is standing right in front of me.”
