Zylia’s POV
I turned and it was her.
Tall. Sharp-eyed. Hair braided tight against her skull so the moon caught every cruel angle of her face. A silver ring glinted in her ear as she stepped out of the trees , calm, deliberate, like someone who belonged to the dark.
The man behind me stiffened, trying to hide the fear crawling up his neck. “Didn’t know she had a guard dog,” he said, his voice thin, trying for a laugh that didn’t survive.
She didn’t smile. The knife at her side caught the light as she shifted her weight. “I’m not her guard,” she said, voice low and cold. “I’m the reason she’s still breathing.”
He bared his teeth , too wide, too eager. “Looks like she won’t be for long if she keeps wandering at night.”
“Try me.” Her tone cut sharper than her blade.
For a breath, the fo
