KELLY THOMPSON'S POV

The night was a cloak we wore, black and suffocating, as we navigated the treacherous whispers of the forest. Every shadow seemed to stretch with malice, every rustle a harbinger of bloodshed. The fragile peace of our recent rescue still trembled in my veins when the stench of The Black Faes' guards fouled the air.

"Positions," I hissed, voice barely a breath on the wind. Elara melted into the shadows, an extension of the darkness itself. Thorne's massive form became ...