Aria’s POV
We crossed the Black Ridge border at midday.
The air changed the moment we hit the old marker stones. Lighter. Warmer. Like the land itself let out a breath it’d been holding since we left.
Mara stretched in the saddle, eyeing the treeline. “Still quiet.”
“Not empty quiet,” Darian said. “Watching quiet.”
Coren didn’t say anything. He was listening to the ground under his horse’s hooves, the way he always does when something’s shifted.
The pack met us at the lower gate.
Ridah was there, Forsaken at her shoulder, Lyra and Tav flanking her. No weapons drawn, but every eye tracked us. Word travels fast when you go to Highreach and come back alive.
Ridah stepped forward as I dismounted.
“You look like hell,” she said.
“Feels accurate,” I said back.
She looked past
