The flames of Ravelle House had burned long into the night, reducing the last remnants of the Order's ruling elite to nothing but ash.
By morning, the estate was silent, the weight of centuries-old power buried beneath the rubble.
And yet—Ariella felt no peace.
She had won.
She had destroyed the machine that had erased her family, stolen her name, and threatened her child.
But something inside her still whispered—
What comes next?
Aftermath and Echoes of War
Leo watched her carefully as she stood at the edge of the destruction, her arms crossed over her chest.
"You're thinking too much again," he murmured, stepping beside her.
Ariella let out a breath. "You keep saying that."
"Because it's always true."
Ariella's gaze flicked to him. "I thought burning the Order would feel… final."
Leo's jaw tightened. "Power never disappears, Ariella. It shifts."
And that was what unsettled her the most.
They had destroyed this part of the Order, but what if—
