Ravena's POV
Before I could answer, the flap of the tent was pushed open.
Evander stepped in with his usual unreadable face, arms crossed like he owned the air we breathed. His broad frame filled the space as if the tent had suddenly shrunk just to make room for his presence. His eyes scanned the scene. Three cups. One bottle. Three guilty faces.
“Well,” he said slowly. “Is this what warriors do the night before their first formation?”
“We were only taking a small sip,” Mira replied quickly, sitting up straighter.
He raised a brow. “Is that supposed to make it better?”
“It’s just a bit of fun,” Rhea added. “We earned it.”
“Fun?” His eyes moved to mine. “Did you earn a broken leg too? Or should we be toasting to hangovers in the morning when you’re supposed to hold the front line?”
