~Morgan's Point Of View~
Morgan hates exile and best believe that it's not the dirt-under-the-nails part. Not the walking-until-your-feet-go-numb part. Not even the fact that the forest smells like wet rot and old teeth and things that never learned to die politely.
No… he hates who he's in exile with.
Darien walks ahead like this is just another tactical maneuver. Like losing everything is a chess move he's already accepted three turns ago. He walks with a straight spine and measured pace, his protector instincts on full display.
Grayson flanks Heidi like a goddamn shield with legs, glancing at every shadow like the forest might grow a mouth and swallow her whole. And Heidi… Morgan's jaw tightens.
She walks between them, pack slung over one shoulder, chin up, eyes alert. Strong. Unbroken. Untouchable in the way only someone who doesn't know how close they are to being taken can be.
You should be mine alone the thought snarls in his head instinctively. And that's the problem.
