Chapter Twenty-Five
The next morning, the campground was quiet as the sun broke through the thick canopy of pine trees. The crisp morning air carried the scent of damp earth and river water. There were no shouts, no loud music, and no angry accusations waiting for us by the ashes of the fire pits. The storm that had threatened to tear the Iron Reapers apart had finally passed, leaving a strange, calm peace in its wake.
Stone was already awake when I opened my eyes. He was sitting on the edge of the thick sleeping bag, his massive back bare to the cool air, silently pulling on his heavy leather boots. The sight of his broad shoulders, lined with dark tattoos and old scars, instantly brought a wave of warmth to my chest. He turned his head the moment he felt me move, his dark eyes softenin
