Chapter 4 — <strong>The Knife and the Fire</strong>

The fire spat embers into the night, golden flecks dissolving against the dark canopy above. Aria sat apart from the others, her back against a gnarled pine, watching the pack through the veil of flames. Their laughter rolled across the clearing, punctuated by the crack of burning wood and the occasional howl from deeper in the forest. Bodies lounged in familiar clusters, shoulders touching, hands gesturing with the easy confidence of those who knew their place.

She belonged to none of those circles. Not yet. Perhaps never. But for the first time in years, she wasn't someone else's weapon either.

Teren moved through the gathering like smoke, his presence acknowledged with subtle nods and averted gazes. When he approached her isolated perch, the conversations nearest them dimmed to whispers.

"You watch too much," he said, dropping to a crouch beside her. "Like you're counting weaknesses."