Redhawk Caldera it's over.

many assumptions have been made. C'est la vie

Finley was beyond feeling when finally, after months, her tired feet brought her home to the Caldera. Her memories of her time away were a chaotic cry in her ears, but she ignored it with a cold strength she had always known herself to possess. She would not think of what had transpired. It didn't matter. She had gone. She had failed. Lucy was dead.

To her at least.

The Blackthorn knew the Caldera was her home - that there was no need to pause upon the borders like some useless stranger seeking refuge. This land was as much hers as it was Fox and Peregrine's. She had been the only one (that she remembered) to follow them. This was her home. And yet she stopped, and she stayed back from the borders as though she no longer belonged. Did she? Her heart was sick. Maybe not.

It didn't matter. Finley was tired and defeated. She wanted her life back. She wanted her mate, her twins, her needy son, her best friends. She wanted her normal back, or as much of it she could even have now that... She wouldn't think of it. Her eyes drifted up, and without making a sound, she waited.