POV: Violet
The forest had a strange quiet that night—too still, too expectant. Even the crickets had gone silent, and the trees seemed to lean in, listening. The rain had finally stopped, leaving the air damp and heavy, thick with the scent of pine and smoke.
We’d been walking for hours, guided only by the pale shimmer of Ryan’s wards flickering along the edges of the path. Kendra trailed a few steps behind me, her flashlight swinging lazily in one hand, her medical bag in the other. She’d been muttering to herself for the last ten minutes, mostly about mud, bugs, and how she should’ve stayed in New York.
But despite her grumbling, she didn’t slow down. She never did.
“Are we close?” she called, her voice breaking the quiet.
Ryan glanced over his shoulder, eyes flashing faintly gold
