THORNE POINT OF VIEW.

The fire had burned down to a bed of red, stubborn embers, glowing faintly beneath a thin layer of ash. No one reached to stir it. No one spoke. The hollow held its breath, as though even the smallest sound might disturb whatever fragile balance had settled between us.

Cairn stood across from me, arms folded, shoulders drawn tight, not in defense, but in restraint. I knew that look. It was the same one he wore before battle, when too many thoughts pressed at once and only ...