The drive to the secluded house was silent.
Xander drummed his fingers against the window. Kyson kept his eyes fixed on the road, jaw clenched tight. In the back seat, Lyra stared out at the thickening woods, arms wrapped around herself. Her stomach turned with a mix of nerves and dread.
The cabin came into view just as the sun began to dip low in the sky — old, two-storied, its wooden structure swallowed by dense trees and the faint mist rolling down from the cliffs. It looked forgotten, eerily quiet, like time didn’t touch this part of the forest. Isolation, Maverick had said. He wasn’t exaggerating.
Kyson parked the jeep with a sharp jerk, the tires crunching over gravel.
None of them moved for a moment. The engine ticked in the silence. Then Xander sighed, kicked open his door, and
