CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
I’m pacing the perimeter of the clearing, my feet finding the same grooves they’ve carved into the earth over the past hour. The sun dips lower behind the mountain ranges, casting long shadows between the trees and sending a chill down my spine that has nothing to do with the evening air.
I can't shake the image of Torin striding away, determination etched into every line of his face, or the way Silas's laughter used to echo around these woods. They're both out there somewhere, and I'm here, trying desperately to focus on anything but the gnawing worry in my gut.
"Focus, Sage," I mutter to myself, clutching the pendants at my throat—one from Silas and one from Torin.
"Can't sit still, huh?" Love’s voice breaks through my thoughts. She's leaning against an ancient pin
