THE TRAIL PULLED THEM DOWNHILL.
Not sharply—just enough that Mailah felt it in her calves, in the subtle way the forest shifted from watchful to wary. The trees grew thinner, trunks spaced farther apart, the undergrowth trampled as though something heavier than deer had passed through recently.
Lucson didn't slow.
Mason did, once—just long enough to crouch and brush his fingers over a scuffed patch of dirt.
"She didn't bother hiding this part," he murmured.
Mailah frowned. "Is that… good?"
"No," Mason said lightly. "It means she wanted us to find it."
Lucson shot him a look. "Or Grayson did."
That possibility landed differently. Mailah's chest tightened, hope and fear tangling painfully together.
They broke through the tree line ten minutes later.
