The night was still. The kind of stillness that felt wrong, heavy, and unnatural. Cael stood at the edge of the camp, watching the forest sway beneath the pale silver moonlight. The fire behind him flickered low, casting long shadows. His knights slept in scattered circles, though their swords lay close at hand.
But Cael’s hand would not leave the hilt of his blade. He felt something pressing at the edges of the night—like the air itself whispered of blood.
Elira emerged from her tent, her hair loose around her shoulders, her eyes still glowing faintly from the magic that lived within her. She studied him with quiet concern. “You sense it too.”
“Yes,” Cael murmured. “We’re being watched.”
Before Elira could speak, a scream tore through the camp.
Steel hissed. Dark shapes burst from th
