(Liam's point of view)
The wind moved like an icy hand along the spine of the mountains, stirring pine needles into a susurrus that scraped at my ears. I stood in the designated clearing — a pale, open scar in the forest three kilometers from home — every sense sharpened to a painful edge. The air bit at my cheeks; my breath came out in white puffs. Neri had been explicit: "Go unarmed. It's a gesture of good faith, but don't trust. Good faith is a luxury that men like us cannot afford."
The wait stretched thin. My mind, a precision instrument as lethal as any blade, refused to rest. It mapped slopes and hollows, calculated sight lines and possible approaches. My body, deliberately free of metal, felt every tendon ready to snap into action if needed. Protecting what was mine had become th
