Zylia’s POV
The flap lifted.
My breath froze.
Moonlight poured in, pale and trembling, outlining a tall silhouette.
My pulse raced before my mind caught up, it wasn’t an enemy.
It was him.
“Mason…” I breathed, but the relief was short-lived.
His expression wasn’t soft like before. His eyes were sharp, scanning the tent, the corners, the shadows. He stepped in, the air behind him curling cold.
“You felt it too?” he asked.
I blinked. “Felt what?”
“That… shift,” he said, voice low. “Like something breathing down your neck.”
He was right. I had felt it, that whisper that wasn’t human, the faint echo under my skin that didn’t belong to me. I swallowed hard, trying to steady my heartbeat. “It’s nothing,” I said. “Maybe just the wind.”
Mason tilted his head, unconvinced. “The wind do
