YSARA THORNE POV
There was always something sacred about silence. Not the silence born of fear, but the kind shaped by purpose. The kind that moved between two people who no longer needed words. Ellowen walked beside me now, cloaked in shadow and charm-woven magic, her presence as sharp as it was steady. I had layered enchantments over us, veil runes etched into the air with flicks of my fingers, scent cloaks braided through invisible strands, sound-dampening fields woven tight around our boots. We were ghosts, unseen and unheard.
And still, I felt her pulse quicken every time we drew closer to the borders of Fae land.
"We're close," I whispered.
