They did not wait for the sun.
There was no sun to wait for.
The gates of the packhouse opened under a sky that had forgotten light, and one by one, the Alphas began to move. Horses shifted restlessly beneath them. Guards tightened formation. No one rode alone. No one spoke more than necessary. Nyx mounted last.
The movement still cost her more than she showed.
Ronan noticed.
Of course he did. “You shouldn’t be riding,” he said quietly as he adjusted the strap on her saddle.
Nyx glanced down at him. “If I don’t ride, I slow us down.”
“You’re already not at full strength.”
“And I’m still stronger than most of them.” That should have sounded arrogant. It didn’t.
Ronan exhaled slowly. He didn’t argue again. But he didn’t like it.
Nyx straightened in the saddle.
Her body felt
