The convoy left the Veilwood Estate at the first pale crack of dawn.
Four heavily armored SUVs rolled through the iron gates, their tires crunching against the gravel as they plunged into the dense, ancient forest. Inside the lead vehicle, Evelyn Blackwood sat beside Lucian Vane, her medical bag secured at her feet, her eyes fixed on the darkening sky ahead.
The forest grew thinner as they drove north. The tall pines gave way to twisted, gnarled oaks, their branches reaching out like skeletal fingers against the grey clouds. The air grew colder, heavier, and the scent of pine was replaced by something else—something acrid and ancient, like old stone and dried blood.
“We are approaching the Shadow Peaks,” Lucian said, his voice low and steady. “The mountains mark the boundary of the anci
