The forest around them was quiet, but the silence didn’t feel empty. It thrummed with something alive—like the earth itself was holding its breath, waiting for what came next.
Aelira’s skin still tingled from the fire inside her, a slow burn that wasn’t just magic or power. It was something deeper. Something hungry.
Astren kept his hand on the small of her back as they moved through the trees, close enough to feel her pulse against his palm. Neither of them spoke. Words felt fragile now, easily shattered by the weight of what they carried.
At the edge of a clearing, moonlight spilled over tangled roots and fallen leaves. The night air was thick with the scent of damp earth and something darker — something sweet and dangerous.
Aelira’s eyes caught a flash of movement.
A shadow slipping
