Cassian had that look again.
The one he got when he was five steps ahead and not in the mood to explain. It wasn’t the silence that tipped me off this time—it was how deliberate his pace had become. Like each footfall had been plotted long before we ever set out.
I should’ve trusted the itch in my spine.
“Where are we going?” I asked, breath catching on the edge of a hill that never seemed to end.
He didn’t turn around. “North ridge.”
I frowned. “You said we were heading west.”
Cassian didn’t miss a beat. “Plans changed.”
That was it. No further comment, no detail, no bite of sarcasm to smooth the edges. Just cold and flat, like this wasn’t up for discussion.
By the time we crested the ridge, my legs were numb and my ribs were grinding fire beneath my skin. The climb had pushed me
