The forest had never felt so quiet.
Not dead—no. Just… hushed. Like it was holding its breath.
I stood at the ridge above the southern river, wind stirring the edge of my cloak, and tried for the thousandth time to feel her clearly.
But there was nothing.
Not the warmth I'd grown used to, the faint brush of her emotions through the bond. Not even her sadness or uncertainty. All of it—gone. No crackle, no tug.
Just fog.
Thick. Silent. Wrong.
My jaw flexed.
She hadn't run. I'd let her go. Watched her disappear beyond the trees with my blessing, even if it split something open in my chest to do it. She needed to find out who she was—what the rouge master had told her, what her blood might carry.
And I had sworn I wouldn't follow.
But this?
This wasn't distance.
This was a wall.
"She's muting the bond," Maren said quietly from behind me, as if reading my thoughts. "Isn't she?"
I didn't turn around. "Yes."
"She doesn't trust you."
