The next morning didn’t feel like the aftermath of a vision. It felt like the start of something worse.
Everyone was quiet as they packed up camp. Even Raze didn’t have a sarcastic comment, which was how Aelira knew things were seriously off. Vess kept glancing over like she wanted to say something but didn’t, and Cain just muttered under his breath whenever their eyes met.
Only Astren stayed close, like a storm cloud with a sword.
Aelira could feel it—the way the group was shifting. The way she was shifting. Whatever happened at the altar last night hadn’t just cracked open the grove. It had cracked her. Or maybe revealed the parts already broken.
She didn’t know what scared her more.
“Where are we even going?” Cain finally asked, loud enough for everyone to hear. “Because wandering
