The night air clung to my skin as we crossed the threshold, Kaelith's hand never leaving the small of my back, guiding me like he was ready to pull me out at the first wrong word.
The cabin was smaller inside than it looked from the outside with low-beamed ceiling, walls lined with shelves crammed full of jars, dried herbs, and strange twisted roots that smelled sharp and earthy. A fire crackled in the stone hearth, casting flickering shadows that made everything feel alive and watchful.
Gareth shuffled ahead without looking back, his wiry frame hunched like he carried the weight of every grudge he'd ever nursed. He dropped into a worn wooden chair at a scarred table and jerked his chin toward the two seats opposite him.
"Sit," he growled. "Before I change my mind and throw you both out on your asses."
