The forest crackled with tension, the fire's dying embers casting flickering shadows that seemed to dance with the whisper of approaching danger.
Taryn's grip on her dagger tightened as Lucien shifted beside her. He stood too close, his silver eyes flickering toward the treeline, his movements taut and restless. His presence gnawed at her focus, his voice still echoing in her mind. You think I wanted this?
She wanted to snap back at him, to tell him he didn't get to rewrite the story this late. But wasn't that always his way? Keep just enough truth to sound noble, but not enough to earn trust. If he thought she was done with his half-measures, he was wrong.
She shoved the thought aside as Kah'el melted into the shadows, his movements sharp and deliberate. The mercenaries were circling them. The sounds of leather creaking and boots shifting over leaves whispered louder with each passing second.
