The dawn broke cold and silver, spilling through the narrow mouth of the cave where Ren and Lyra had taken refuge. Mist drifted between the trees like the ghost of the night that refused to die. Every branch, every leaf glistened with dew, but the forest’s beauty did nothing to ease the tension coiling in Ren’s chest. I'm starting to think we can’t outrun the light, or the danger that follows it.
Ren stirred first, moving with the predatory precision of someone who had learned to sense danger before it arrived. He could feel the tremor beneath the earth, the faint scent of iron and blood carried by the wind. The hunters were still on their trail. I'm starting to think time is running out.
Lyra shifted beside him, hair damp, eyes half-closed in sleep. For a moment, Ren let himself just wa
