Riona was officially running away from Wintertooth. It was over. Her colossal screw-up was too big to be ignored.
Even if Thorin was the type to forgive people—no, he wasn't—she was pretty sure this was beyond saving. Not that it was just about Thorin. She could barely forgive herself for wrecking everything he'd spent years building.
Good job, Riona. Well done on burning bridges—quite literally.
Her guilt weighed on her like a thousand-pound rock, but she kept running anyway, charging out of the forest and onto the main road, because that's what you do when everything falls apart—run aimlessly, hoping for some kind of magical solution to appear.
And that's exactly what happened. Well, not sure about the solution part, but something pretty magical did go down. A familiar voice stopped her dead in her tracks.
"Kid. It's me. I'm sorry."
