The Fae did not walk so much as they drifted, their movements a seamless integration with the forest that cradled them. The roots around our ankles were not chains; they were extensions of the Fae's will, guiding our steps along paths that appeared only as we trod upon them. Fallen leaves spiraled in our wake, arranging themselves into patterns I couldn't decipher before the wind scattered them.
Damien's jaw was clenched so tightly I feared his teeth might crack. I could feel his wolf straining beneath his skin, every instinct screaming at him to fight, to flee, to protect. But he held. For me. For the mission. Selene walked in silence, her golden light dimmed to near-invisibility, her face a careful mask of neutrality. But I knew her well enough now to see the calculation behind her eyes
