Vincent, Iryz, and Elijah stood at the edge of the forest, their eyes fixed on the small camp by the stream. The fire cast long shadows, flickering against the trees, and the cold night air hummed with tension.
"There they are," Elijah murmured, his golden eyes gleaming in the dark as he watched El-Kharis standing near the flames, separate from the others.
Iryz stepped forward, her purple eyes reflecting the distant firelight. "El-Kharis won't make this easy," she said quietly, her voice like silk slipping through the night.
Vincent's lips pressed into a thin line, his gaze locked on Esteria. She was wrapped in a thick cloak, sitting close to the fire, unaware of the eyes watching her. Memories of their past together washed over him, but bitterness quickly replaced them.
"He never does," Vincent muttered, his voice laced with resentment.
The three of them stood in silence, their eyes scanning the camp, calculating the moment to strike.
---
