The moment I unsheathed my blade, the air shifted.
Not with fear. Not even tension.
It was recognition.
Something in the woods felt me draw steel and whispered, *There she is.*
Cassian and I didn’t speak. There wasn’t time. A shape darted past the edge of my vision—too fast, too quiet.
A scout.
Followed by three more.
Silverclaw.
They moved like phantoms—silent and sure, trained in my old ways. I recognized the spacing, the angles. I’d studied them. Sparred with them. I knew how they struck.
And I knew how to break it.
Cassian caught my eye, motioned left. I nodded. We split in perfect sync.
Trust forged in bruises.
Mine led with speed. Cassian’s with lethality.
I veered right, crouched low, and baited the closest enforcer into the clearing.
She took it.
She always would.
B
