The forest gave way to stone as Taryn reached the overgrown section of the stronghold wall. The vines were thick and gnarled, twisting like veins across the crumbling stone. She crouched low, brushing aside the foliage with swift, practiced movements. The hum of the wards pressed faintly against her senses, a reminder of the risk ahead.
Behind her, Lucien lingered in the shadows, his presence more felt than seen. She didn't have to look to know his expression—tight-lipped, silver eyes scanning for threats, and that tension in his shoulders that always appeared when he was biting back an argument.
"This is a bad idea." he murmured, his voice low and edged with skepticism.
Taryn didn't answer immediately, her focus on clearing a path through the tangled vines. She could feel his eyes on her, heavy with questions he hadn't voiced yet.
"Maybe," she said finally, her voice steady. "But unless you have a better plan, start helping."
