Chapter 25 – Nightmares and Half‑Truths

Dawn came too early.

Grey light seeped through the trees, turning the camp from shadows and coals into shapes and faces. Boots scuffed. Someone cursed softly as they kicked over a cold ember. Horses snorted, blowing mist.

I woke to the sound of quiet voices and the smell of porridge heating over the fire.

For a heartbeat, I didn’t remember where I was.

Then, the events of the night crashed back.

The nightmare. My choking scream. “Brother!” ripping out of my throat like it had been waiting there for years.

Alden’s face in the firelight, eyes haunted as he said, “You called for me. As if you already knew who I was.”

Heat crawled up my neck.

I pushed myself up on one elbow. The cloak he’d tucked around me had slipped in the night; I tugged it tighter, using the motion to hide the way my hands shook.

Most of the guards pretended not to look. They’d heard worse things shouted in worse camps. But a few threw glances my way—curious, wary, pitying.

Alden stood a short distance away, talking q