KAEL'S POV
The forest never slept.
Not here. Not in this cursed stretch of land where the Binder's rot seeped through the roots and fed on silence.
Every tree leaned too close, every shadow stretched too long. The night air was heavy with damp moss and the sour tang of blood—ours, theirs, the ground's.
And behind me, the sound of pursuit grew louder.
Ayla stirred faintly in my arms, her body shifting against mine. I adjusted my grip, forcing my boots through the undergrowth without breaking stride. Each step sank into mud and leaves slick with decay, the terrain conspiring against us.
Branches clawed at my shoulders, tearing at the leather, whispering like voices just out of reach. The forest didn't want us here. Or maybe it wanted us caught.
I could hear them now—the hunters. Not shouting, not clumsy. Coordinated. Their boots snapped branches in different directions, spreading out to drive us forward. Herding us.
