Kiel
The night air was damp with the scent of moss and river silt. I could feel the cold pressing against my skin as the mist rolled in from the east. My heart hadn't stopped pounding since the moment I saw the blood — Josie's blood. It clung to my senses like iron and salt, a reminder that she was somewhere out there, hurt and alone. Every part of me burned to reach her, to find her, to make this right.
But Varen stood there like a damn rock in my path.
He hadn't moved since the youth left, his arms folded, jaw tight. The torchlight flickered across his face, casting deep shadows beneath his eyes.
"Are you coming or not?" I snapped, my patience unraveling.
Varen exhaled slowly, his tone calm — too calm. "You're imagining things again, Kiel."
I froze, then turned to face him fully. "Imagining things?" My voice was low, dangerous. "You think I imagined the blood? You think I imagined the memory that came with it?"
