By the time they reached the foothills, dusk had already swallowed the forest.
The day had been merciless. A blur of walking, hiding, listening for pursuit that never came but always felt close. Selene’s legs trembled with every step. Kael leaned heavily on Lucian’s shoulder, his wound freshly dressed but still bleeding through the linen.
The neutral lands stretched endlessly around them, vast and quiet. The air here felt different — older, heavier, thrumming faintly with a kind of ancient power. Even the trees grew differently, their bark pale as bone, their roots twisting like veins through the earth.
Lucian led the way, silent and focused, his hand on the hilt of his blade. He’d barely spoken all day, his expression carved in stone.
When the first drops of rain began to fall, Selene
