The southern coast loomed before them, a jagged expanse of cliffs and crashing waves. The journey from Winter's Crown had been long and grueling, but Damien and his allies pressed on, driven by the urgency of their mission. The captured rebel's information had led them to this place—a hidden cove where the remnants of the rebellion's leadership were supposedly regrouping.
Damien dismounted his horse, his steel-gray eyes scanning the terrain. The cove was tucked between steep cliffs, its entrance partially obscured by a cluster of jagged rocks. It was an ideal location for secrecy and ambushes.
"Charming place," Amara said, stepping up beside Damien. Her sharp blue eyes glinted as she surveyed the area. "They've got the perfect setup down there. Tight quarters, limited access... it's a death trap waiting to happen."
