Selene

The fortress walls loomed behind us like silent sentinels as Draven and I slipped through the shadows of the rear gate. The night air carried the sharp bite of pine and frost, and my boots barely made a sound on the damp earth. I'd packed light – a bow slung over my shoulder, a dagger at my thigh, and a small satchel with dried meat and bandages. No room for sentiment, only survival. Dorian was out there, and every moment we wasted felt like another chain tightening around my chest.

Draven moved ahead, his broad frame cutting through the darkness with that effortless grace of his. He glanced back,...