(Nova POV)
The tunnel mouth opened like a wound in the mountain's side—black, damp, exhaling cold air that tasted of moss and old iron. We'd reached it just as the last gray bled out of the sky. Liora's three white stones waited exactly where she'd promised, stacked neatly beside the eastern grate. A small, fierce relief loosened the knot in my chest. She'd made it inside. She was alive.
We slipped through one by one. Silas first, shadow-quiet. Mara next, veil herbs clutched in one fist like a talisman. Kaelin after her, bow already half-drawn. I went last, hand pressed low on my stomach as though I could shield the small life from the dark pressing in.
The moment my boots touched the slick stone floor, the bond snapped.
