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Chapter 8(iii) – Bloodlines & Bonds
POV: Scarlett
Two weeks later.
The archery range was quiet, save for the dull thud of arrows meeting hay. I adjusted my stance, drew in a breath, and loosed.
Thud.
Not bad.
Again.
It had become a habit. The morning calm. The stillness before the routines began. There was something about the pull of the bowstring that felt right. Like tension I could control.
Jane sat nearby, sharpening a knife slowly, eyes half-lidded like she hadn't really slept. We didn't talk much these mornings. But the silence wasn't heavy.
Just… comfortable.
I glanced toward the edge of camp. Grey and Luke were training again. He still limped a little, but he was stronger. Stubborn as ever.
Sometimes, I'd catch Grey watching him. Like he was measuring something. Or bracing for something else.
I don't know if it was loyalty or guilt. Maybe both.
Blair waved from across the field, her hair tied up and skin flushed from sparring. Jonah trailed behind her, shirt drenched, guitar nowhere in sight for once. He looked serious lately—shoulders tighter, voice more clipped.
We were all changing.
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POV: Jonah
"Your form's better," I told Blair as we walked back toward the dorms.
She smirked. "Say it again. Louder this time."
"Don't push it."
She nudged me. "It's nice, though. Training. Focus. Keeps my brain from spiraling."
I nodded. "You ever think about Mom?"
"All the time."
"Do you ever... think about going back?"
She didn't answer immediately. Just stared ahead at the camp buildings.
"No," she said finally. "Not unless it's safe. And it won't be. Not for a long time."
We reached the mess hall and paused.
"You still have those sneakers?" I asked. "The red ones. From the parkour days."
She smiled faintly. "Tore apart weeks ago. I buried them behind the fence. Dumb, huh?"
"No. Just human."
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POV: Grey
Nights were worse.
It wasn't the silence—it was the memories that filled it.
I had another dream last night. Eva, again. Her laugh echoing down sterile halls. She was wearing a scarf I'd drawn for her once. Pale lavender, with broken glass patterns.
I couldn't move in the dream. Couldn't speak. Just stared while she vanished again, like smoke.
In the dream, she said: "Don't forget what they did."
But I didn't know who 'they' were.
Or maybe I did.
And just didn't want to remember.
I sat outside my tent until the sky turned grey. Luke joined me eventually. No words exchanged. He passed me a bottle of water and a protein bar.
We sat like brothers who didn't know how to talk about love.
But it was there.
In silence.
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