Mason’s POV
The path back to camp stretched long and quiet, the kind of silence that made your own thoughts sound too loud.
The fog had lifted, but the air still smelled of rain and ash.
Zylia walked ahead of us, her pace fast, her shoulders stiff.
She didn’t look back, not even a subtle glance.
Raven walked beside me, her arms folded tight, her eyes darting between us every few seconds.
The tension was like a storm ready to break.
Every step I took, I felt the weight of what none of us were saying.
I could tell Zylia was hurting.
Not from a wound, but from something deeper.
Her scent was usually calm, soft, like wild lavender, but it now carried a bitter edge of smoke, fear, and maybe anger.
I wanted to reach her, to say something that would make it better, but my throat felt d
