The campfire crackled faintly as we sat in uneasy silence, the shadows of the Ravine dancing around us like restless ghosts. My body ached from the day’s battles, and my mind felt even heavier under the weight of what had happened.
Dylan had barely spoken since our confrontation earlier. He sat across from me, sharpening his blade with deliberate strokes, the glow from the fire casting sharp shadows over his face. His anger simmered just below the surface—I could feel it in every pointed glance, every clenched muscle.
I sighed, wrapping my arms around my knees. I didn’t have the energy to deal with his broodiness. Not after the ordeal with that cursed necklace.
But just as I was about to speak to break the tense silence—a familiar chill prickled at the nape of my neck. It wasn’t the opp
