Silver ChainsThe busted mill glared back at the moon like some rotten tooth, jagged and useless under that inky sky. Marcus crouched low behind a half-dead tree, maybe fifty paces from the spot he was supposed to meet them, fingers tight around his sword, eyes locked on the ghostly shape of the building. The place felt off. Too quiet. Like the world was holding its breath, waiting for the wrong thing to happen.He could feel Lyra, somewhere back at the castle, her presence buzzing through their bond, a weird comfort and a curse all at once. She was doing her thing, pacing around, staying alert like they’d planned. He was supposed to be the idiot running point, sniffing out danger before it found her. Real simple plan, right?Except, well, Kael had a talent for screwing up simple things.Somewhere off to the left, a twig snapped. Marcus spun, sword sliding out without a sound. Three soldiers materialized from the shadows, dressed in black, moving like they’d been born in the damn wood
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