The forest here breathed differently.
Elinora could feel it in the slow sigh of the wind through the branches, in the way the shadows pooled not just with the shifting light but with a strange, steady rhythm — like the forest itself had a heartbeat.
Her wolf’s ears twitched. This place knows us.
They’d been moving for hours since leaving the Rift’s shadow, keeping their pace steady but silent. Riven led with the instinct of a predator in enemy territory, his eyes scanning constantly, while Kaelen drifted behind, letting his shadows trail through the undergrowth like scouts.
By midday, the light had dimmed further. The canopy above was so dense the sky was little more than a muted smear of gray.
Riven slowed, raising a hand. “Tracks.”
Elinora moved up beside him. The prints in the dam
