The fire crackled weakly, casting shifting shadows across the clearing. Taryn sat hunched over the parchment, her eyes flickering with the flames as she traced the familiar name scrawled at the bottom of the page. Lucien.
She couldn't unsee it. The weight of the discovery settled in her chest like a stone, heavy and cold.
Her gaze flicked toward him. He sat across from her, leaning casually against a tree, his dagger balanced between his hands. The firelight played across his face, softening the sharpness of his features. He looked relaxed—too relaxed, considering what she'd found.
It was infuriating, the way he could sit there so casually, as if he hadn't turned her entire world upside down. She wanted to hate him for it—for how easily he broke through her walls. But deep down, she knew she didn't. That was the problem.
