•The Forest Road•
[Ace's POV]
Ray and I moved forward slowly, each step deliberate and measured on the packed dirt. The man lay sprawled ahead, a dark shape against the earth. Late afternoon sunlight cut through the trees in long, slanted beams, dust motes dancing in the golden light. It illuminated the fine weave of his tunic, the good quality of his boots. He's no bandit. Bandits wore rough leather and dirt-stained wool. This man's clothes belonged to a house, not a gang.
Crouching beside him, I reached out two fingers to check for a pulse at his neck.
His eyes flew open—not the slow blink of a waking man, but the snap of a hunter who had never been asleep. In the same instant, his hand shot out from beneath his chest, gripping the hilt of a sword I hadn't seen. The blade flashed in the sun as he swung it in a vicious, horizontal arc aimed at my throat.
