Dorian‘s pov.

The silence of our path was almost sacred. Trees lined our trail like silent sentinels, their tall silhouettes blotting out patches of the night sky. Our horses moved in steady rhythm, hooves whispering over dirt and stone. It had been hours since we’d left Dante and his party behind.

Selene rode to my right, her presence calm, focused. Tiberius was slightly ahead, eyes fixed on the narrowing path. He rarely spoke unless prompted, preferring to let his thoughts ...