The campfire crackled softly, its glow casting jagged shadows on the surrounding trees. Taryn sat close to the flames, her arms crossed, every muscle coiled tight. Across from her, Ryken's scarred face remained stoic, his axe resting within easy reach. Lucien leaned against a tree just beyond the firelight, arms folded, his silver eyes gleaming with a calm that made her want to throttle him.
"You've given me all the information you know," Ryken said at last, his voice low but commanding.
Lucien tilted his head, the faintest smirk playing on his lips. "And?"
Ryken's eyes flicked to Lucien, then back to Taryn. "You've shown your hand. Now we'll show ours." His fingers found the haft of his axe, the words settling over the camp like a shroud.
The smirk on Lucien's face faltered just slightly, his gaze sharpening. Around the campfire, the mercenaries shifted, their hands falling to their weapons. The tension coiled tighter, the crackling fire the only sound.
