Kael’s POV
The wind had teeth.
By the fourth day on the northern road, the snow had thickened into a wall of white that swallowed sound and distance. The world felt smaller up here—narrower, harsher. Even the horses moved more cautiously, hooves crunching through ice as if afraid the ground might vanish beneath them.
Jarek rode ahead, scanning the tree line. “We should have seen the outpost by now,” he said, his voice muffled under his fur-lined hood.
“We passed the marker an hour ago,” I said. “Either the storm buried it—or someone buried the outpost.”
He turned in the saddle. “You think—?”
“I don’t think. I know.”
The wind howled around us, carrying faint sounds that weren’t the wind. The kind of sound soldiers learned to recognize—the crack of a branch, the brief silence before s
