“Do you feel that?” Elias murmured, his hand resting lightly on the small of my back as we stood on the ridge, staring down at the gathering storm below us.
I nodded, my eyes locked on the sea of bodies forming at the edge of the forest. Magnus’s warriors. They wore his colors, bore his crest, but their eyes... their eyes held no conviction. No fire. Just fear.
“They’re afraid,” I whispered.
“They should be,” Elias said, his voice steady. “Because they’re following a man who’s already lost.”
I turned to him, searching his face for any flicker of uncertainty. There was none. Just fierce loyalty. Just him. “What if we lose, Elias?”
He cupped my face gently, his thumb brushing against my cheek, the roughness of his skin grounding me. “We won’t. But if we do, we lose together.”
I swallow
