The sound of boots shattered the quiet.
I froze, my fingers still clutching the edge of Kael’s thick blanket. The flap of his tent snapped open, and cold air rushed inside, stinging my skin. Three warriors stood in the doorway, silhouettes cut against the torchlight. Their armors gleamed, their faces expressionless.
“By order of the king,” the one in front said, his voice flat and distant.
“You are to come with us.”
My heart slammed against my ribs.
“Kael isn’t here,” I said before I could stop myself. My voice sounded too small, too soft to matter.
“He doesn’t need to be here,” the warrior replied. He stepped forward. I shrank back instinctively, but Kael’s voice echoed in my mind—his warning from before he had gone out:
If they come for you, don’t fight them.
Don’t give them a
