The Hunt
The morning was merciless.
Lila had barely closed her eyes before the sharp rustling of footsteps outside her tent pulled her from the edge of restless sleep. The cool dawn air seeped through the worn fabric, carrying the damp scent of earth and smoke. She barely had a moment to orient herself before the tent flap was yanked open with force.
A rogue stood at the entrance, his silhouette blocking out the dim morning light. He tossed a piece of stale bread onto the ground at her feet, his expression unreadable.
“Get up. Kane’s waiting.”
She didn’t need to be told twice.
Lila forced down the exhaustion weighing on her limbs and rose swiftly, her instincts pushing aside the remnants of sleep. She reached for the small blade she kept within arm’s reach, its familiar weight a cold reassurance. Trust was a luxury she could not afford here.
Outside, the camp was already stirring.
Fires crackled, sending spirals of smoke into the gray sky, and rogues moved with a restless energy. Som
