Blackwater Islands Exodus

Ruin’s eye lingered on Visala, her frown pulling at something deep in his chest. He wasn’t good at understanding feelings—his own or others’—but the sight of her like this made his muscles tense, like he needed to do something.

“Yeah,” he rumbled, the word simple and direct. He shifted his massive frame, his ears twitching as if straining to hear movement outside the den. “When he shows up, I’ll take you to him.” His tone was gruff but carried a quiet certainty, a promise he wouldn’t break.

Her contradictions were lost on him; to Ruin, she wasn’t a puzzle to figure out. She was the Listener. His sister. His lifeblood. That was all he needed to know.

He watched her for a moment longer, his expression unreadable, then added, “You don’t have to worry. If he doesn’t come, I’ll find him. Drag him back if I have to.” There was no jest in his voice, just blunt truth.