Pov: Lark.
The night air was sharp and still. Raven’s Peak, normally alive with quiet murmurs or the echo of distant howls, held its breath.
Inside the cell block beneath the council’s main building, Lark sat chained, unmoved. The scent of mildew clung to the stone walls. He had stopped looking at the clock above the door—it no longer mattered. No one was coming. At least, that’s what he believed until the lights flickered once. Then again.
Footsteps. Not the heavy, indifferent stride of a guard, but quick, precise steps. He tilted his head. The guards hadn’t noticed—too busy talking about the elections or playing cards behind the thick glass.
Then a flash. Steel sliced through the air. One guard collapsed before he could scream. The other barely had time to draw his weapon before a blade entered his neck.
Lark stood, eyes widening as Eline stepped out from the shadows, blood staining her gloves. She held up the keys.
“Time to go.”
He exhaled slowly, almost amused. “I didn’t think yo
