CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
With the first light, we push deeper into the mountain's embrace. Ezra's maps crunch in Logan’s hands, the paper resisting the early morning dampness that clings to everything like a second skin. Each contour line on the map is a promise of more grueling climbs, but it's the only guidance we have, and trust in Ezra runs as deep as the roots of these ancient pines.
"Keep up," Logan calls over his shoulder, brown eyes scanning the path ahead, body always a few steps in front of us. He moves with purpose; every step is sure and strong, even against the uneven terrain. I watch the muscles in his back tense beneath his soaked shirt, admiration for him stirring quietly within me.
The forest is alive with whispers, the leaves speaking secrets as we pass. My boots sink into
