The forest wrapped around the road like a shroud, its silence unnerving. Every breath felt heavier here, thick with the damp chill of night. Taryn crouched low behind a jagged outcrop of rocks, her sharp eyes scanning the path below. She hated waiting—it gave her too much time to think.
She pressed her back against the rock, her fingers brushing the hilt of her dagger. "Lucien better be in position."
"Would it matter if he wasn't?" Kah'el's voice came from her left, smooth and edged with faint amusement.
Taryn glanced at him, irritation flaring in her chest. He leaned lazily against the trunk of a gnarled tree, one hand resting on the hilt of his blade, the other toying with the edge of his cloak. He might as well have been lounging at an inn for all the urgency in his posture.
