The night had the strange softness of velvet pulled too tight.
Clouds covered the moon, muting the estate in a dim gray wash. Torches burned low along the southern wall, their flames bending and straightening with each restless breath of wind.
Thomas had been on this shift before.
Same hour.
Same gate.
Different feeling.
He shifted his weight and rolled his shoulder slowly. "You remember the last night raid?" he asked quietly.
Aric, standing a pace away, didn't look at him. "Don't."
Thomas exhaled through his nose. "Just saying. Feels the same."
Aric's jaw tightened faintly. "That night we lost three."
"Yeah."
"And you almost bled out."
Thomas huffed softly. "You saved me."
"Don't romanticize it."
A faint smirk tugged at Thomas' mouth. "Ridiculous. You're always dramatic."
"Shut up and watch the treeline."
Silence settled again.
The forest beyond the southern gate was black and heavy, as if holding its breath.
Thomas narrowed his eyes. "You see that?"
Aric stilled.
