The forest was alive with sound. The rustle of leaves in the wind, the distant crack of a branch underfoot. But to Taryn, it felt suffocatingly quiet. Every noise echoed too loudly, and every silence pressed too closely.
Lucien walked a step behind her, his usual fluid stride muted, as if even he felt the weight of the trees pressing down on them. Normally, he would have filled the silence by now, his voice a low hum of teasing remarks or unnecessary observations. But this time, he said nothing.
Taryn glanced over her shoulder, catching the faintest glimmer of his silver eyes in the dappled light. "You're quiet," she said, her voice rough.
Lucien arched a brow, but the smirk she expected didn't come. "I figured you'd appreciate the peace."
"Since when do you care what I appreciate?" she muttered, turning her focus back to the path.
"Since I realized even I'm not in the mood for conversation," he replied, his voice softer than usual.
