The rebels were still numerous but they were no longer organized. The certainty that had been in their movements at the start of the fight was gone. Men were breaking off from their formations, some trying to retreat, pushing blindly toward the southern exit. Ragnar’s soldiers ran them down.

Morana moved through the remnants of Remin’s group with her shadows, ripping them apart and cutting them down one after another, slaughtering them as mercilessly as they had intended to slaughter Ragnar’s soldiers.

The rebel numbers dropped steadily.

Parts of Remin’s clothes were singed but he had somehow avoided being burnt alive like the others. He had lost most of his men but he was still moving, pushing through the carnage toward Ragnar directly. He was fast and capable as he cut through two of Ragnar’s soldiers before anyone could stop him.

Morana’s shadows lashed out the moment she spotted him. They coiled around his neck and, with a violent jerk, tore his head from his shoulders before he could take another step.

It was a single clean motion. Remin’s body dropped to the ground, while his decapitated head was thrown aside.

Morana barely looked back at those she slaughtered.

The fight lasted for another few minutes after that. Some rebels were still standing, trying to flee. The brave ones held their ground, a futile effort. Ragnar and his soldiers cleared them out steadily and Morana aided their efforts by cutting off escape routes. By the time it was over, the scent of blood hung heavy in the air, mingling with the stench of burning flesh.

Ragnar stood in the middle of it catching his breath.

Morana looked at what remained around them, her gaze sweeping across the carnage one final time. Then she spread her wings and launched herself into the air.

From above, she could see the full perimeter and the open ground stretching beyond both exits. Smoke drifted through the cold air below. As her eyes scanned the terrain, she spotted a group of men moving quickly across a distant slope, heading for the treeline.

She counted them at a glance.

Eight men. Gerard was among them.

They had made it perhaps two hundred yards before she descended upon them.

Morana tilted forward and released one long, uncontrolled stream of fire. Wild flames erupted from her hands, sweeping across the ground between her and the fleeing rebels in seconds. The fire spread with terrifying speed, engulfing them before they could scatter. It caught on their clothes and armor, licking across exposed flesh as it consumed them.

Their screams echoed through the air.

Some stumbled. Others tried desperately to run. But none made it far.

The screaming carried clearly to her ears before it abruptly ceased, leaving behind nothing but charred, blackened remains scattered across the scorched earth.

Only then did she turn back.

She returned to her son.

Ragnar was still standing where she had left him, blood running steadily from the wound in his side and another along his forearm. He turned at the sound of her landing.

Morana immediately crossed the distance between them, unable to keep her distance after everything that just transpired.

Her eyes moved over him with relentless scrutiny, examining every detail. His face. His posture. The blood soaking through his clothes. She inspected him with a critical eye, searching for injuries he might be trying to ignore.

Ragnar stood motionless beneath her inspection.

He was so stunned by her actions and by the unmistakable concern shining in her eyes that he found himself rooted to the spot. For perhaps the first time since meeting her, he had no words. He could only watch as she examined him thoroughly, as though nothing else in the world mattered in that moment.

Relief flooded through Morana when she finally determined that his injuries were not life-threatening. They were serious, but survivable. Still, he would need treatment soon before blood loss and infection made them worse.

Only then did Ragnar begin studying her in return.

His gaze settled on the wound in her shoulder and the blood that had soaked through her sleeve. Then his eyes drifted lower, finally resting on the wings folded neatly behind her back.

He had so many questions.

Why had she come?

How had she known he and his soldiers needed help?

How had she managed to keep her wings hidden all this time?

This was the first time he had seen them up close.

They were magnificent.

Powerful.

Impossible to ignore.

Yet they had never been visible during any of their previous encounters. Not once. Somehow, she had concealed them every time they had met.

How?

The question lingered in his mind.

But when their eyes finally met and he opened his mouth to speak, the words that emerged were not the ones he had intended.

"Are there more of them left out there?" he asked.

He was referring to the rebels.

Morana shook her head.

"No. They’re all gone."

Ragnar nodded once.

His gaze drifted past her toward the battlefield. Toward the soldiers who were still standing and the many who were not.

"My soldiers," he said quietly. 𝗳𝐫𝚎𝗲𝚠𝚎𝗯𝕟𝐨𝘃𝚎𝗹.𝗰𝗼𝗺

The words carried a weight that made Morana’s chest tighten.

He would never forget this.

Never forget that it had been his own carelessness that had led them into the trap.

"They fought hard," Morana said softly. "Every one of them."

She wanted to comfort him, even if she knew there was little she could say that would lessen the burden he was carrying.

Ragnar looked away.

For a long moment, it seemed as though he wasn’t going to respond at all.

Finally, he drew a slow breath.

"We need to return to camp," he said.

Several of his men were wounded and in desperate need of treatment.

Including him.

Even now, he could feel blood continuing to seep from his injuries.

His gaze shifted back to her.

"You should come with us as well."

There was something in his voice that caught her off guard.

Concern.

Genuine concern.

It was a stark contrast to the aloof and guarded man she had faced only weeks earlier.

The realization struck Morana with surprising force.

A giddy joy blossomed inside her chest, so sudden and overwhelming that it nearly knocked her off her feet.

For a moment, despite the blood, the death, and the devastation surrounding them, all she could think about was the fact that Ragnar was worried about her.