The storm broke an hour later.
Not suddenly—no violent c***k of thunder, no sharp declaration—but in a slow, deliberate claiming of the sky. Clouds thickened until the world dulled to shades of iron and ash. Rain followed soon after, heavy enough to soak through clothes, light enough not to slow them. It felt intentional, as if the land itself had decided to erase tracks.
Elara noticed.
She said nothing.
They moved deeper into unfamiliar territory, the forest changing subtly with every mile. Trees grew taller but thinner, their trunks twisted, bark etched with scars that weren’t natural. The undergrowth thinned until the ground lay exposed—dark soil, packed hard, threaded with pale stones that caught the dim light like old bone.
Rachel slowed beside her. “This place feels wrong.”
“Ye
