No, Asher says, standing up. He wipes his nose with the back of his hand, smearing a faint trace of dried blood beneath his nostril. His mismatched eyes are bright, entirely focused. If I don’t do it, they’ll think I’m weak. They’ll think the Mortar is broken. I have to do it, Mama. I have to show them the math.
I look at Kade. Through the mate bond, I feel his absolute, unyielding resolve.
He’s right, Luna, Kade projects. He’s not just a kid anymore. He’s the face of the new world. We have to let him lead.
I stand up, wrapping my bandaged arms around Asher’s small, trembling shoulders one last time. Okay, baby. But remember the rule. You aren’t just planting seeds. You’re the gardener. A gardener doesn’t force the growth. He prunes it. Feel the floor. Feel the stone. Ground the energy
