The forest was silent, save for the rustle of leaves underfoot and the occasional call of a distant owl. The campfire had long since died down to embers, casting a dim orange glow over the makeshift camp. Lucia had finally managed to find some semblance of sleep, her breathing even and peaceful, though Miranda knew her dreams were likely anything but restful.
Miranda stood watch at the edge of the camp, her senses alert for any signs of danger. She was no stranger to sleepless nights, especially now that they were out of the kingdom, far from the safety of the palace walls. But it wasn’t the potential threats of the forest that kept her on edge tonight—it was Luke.
He was awake too, sitting a few paces away from the campfire, his back against a tree. His eyes were distant, lost in though
