"Not all traps are made of iron and chains. Some wear the face of duty and speak with polished lies."
ELLOWENS POV
The veil between Ashmere and the Fae Realm shimmered like breath on the glass as I stepped through, leaving behind the warmth of Ysara's arms and the quiet promise of something fragile and beautiful blooming between us. Already I missed her. But I could not afford sentiment now. Not when the shadows I had once escaped were stirring again.
The air in the Fae lands was cooler, sharper as though the land itself had grown more cautious. The scent of silver trees and magic-drenched moss lingered in the morning air, but beneath it was something less familiar: tension. I felt it in the breeze, in the way the birds stilled their song, in the silence that clung too tightly to the edges of the ancient forest paths.
