The forest was silent. Too silent.

Not the kind of silence that lulled you into peace-the kind that coiled around your throat, stretched every shadow a little too far, made the hairs at the nape of your neck rise. The trees stood like ancient sentinels, their gnarled roots gripping the earth as if holding onto long-buried secrets. A damp mist curled low, softening the world, but not enough to hide the faint flicker of firelight ahead.

I pressed myself against the rough bark of an old oak, barely daring to breathe. The fire in the clearing cast shifting, twisting shadows, moving as if whispering their own dark conspiracies. Three figures sat close, their hushed voices the only sound against the oppressive quiet.

Behind me, Nyx was as still as death, his muscles coiled beneath his sleek coat. His ears flicked toward the conversation, his instincts razor-sharp. Even he knew something wasn't right.

"We move before dawn," a voice broke through the stillness.

The man at the center of the group-cloaked, commanding-spoke with the sharpness of a blade. There was no hesitation, no wavering. Just cold certainty.

"The target is fast. If we don't intercept, we lose our chance."

"Are we certain about the route?" another voice, rough with impatience, cut in.

A pause. The fire crackled. Then—

"The scout confirmed it. They're taking the Ravaryn Pass. We have half a day to prepare."

I stilled. Ravaryn Pass. That wasn't just a road-it was a death trap. A narrow, twisting mountain route where ambushes played out like clockwork. This wasn't a simple raid. This was professional. Deliberate. Calculated.

"And what about resistance? The prince won't travel alone."

"We handle it as necessary. Quick. Clean. No loose ends."

My brows furrowed. A prince. An ambush. This wasn't about wealth or power alone—this was political. Dangerous. I leaned forward, trying to catch more when—

A hand clamped over my mouth.

I froze.

Before I could react, an arm locked around my waist, dragging me backward into the shadows. I twisted violently, aiming my elbow at their ribs, but they were faster-too fast.

"Stay quiet if you want to keep your tongue," a sharp whisper rasped against my ear.

Well. That was rude.

I shifted my weight, driving my heel down with all the force I could muster. A pained hiss. Their grip faltered-just for a fraction of a second. But that was enough. I twisted free, spinning to face my attacker. A tall, lean figure stood before me, eyes gleaming like a hawk sizing up prey. A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

"Feisty," he mused. "A little spy?"

Another man stepped forward, seizing my arm before I could bolt. "Found her lurking. Alone. Probably a scout."

Alone.

Good. That meant they hadn't noticed Nyx.

The smirking man turned toward the fire. "Captain. We've got a guest."

Slowly, the cloaked figure rose. He was taller than I expected-broad-shouldered, the weight of command settling on him like an iron mantle. His presence was suffocating, like the stillness before a storm. When he stepped into the firelight, I finally saw his face.

Erra Asherah.

My enemy. The man whose name was spoken in my kingdom like a curse, laced with hatred and warning. The reason generations of my people had sharpened their swords. His name won't be uttered unless war cries were heard. His gray eyes flickered with recognition. Then, they darkened.

"Well, well," he drawled, voice like the edge of a blade. "If it isn't my darling Ishtar Jirisan."

I smiled, sharp as a dagger. "I'd say I'm pleased to see you, but I'm a terrible liar."

They didn't waste time binding my hands.

Tight. Secure. Sloppy.

I had been captured before. They always made the mistake of underestimating me.

But then—

A commotion. A sharp, furious neigh split the air like a war cry.

Nyx.

A dark blur tore through the camp, hooves pounding the earth like a drum of war. The first man in his path barely had time to scream before he was sent flying, crashing into a pile of crates. Another lunged for the reins—foolish. Nyx reared, his front hooves slamming down, crushing a wrist with a sickening crunch. Panic erupted.

"That damn horse—!"

"Hold it down!"

Nyx twisted wildly, sheer strength tearing through ropes, sending men sprawling. But then—

His hoof slipped on a loose stone. His body twisted mid-motion, and he landed hard. I winced. Even the strongest could fall when the earth betrayed them. A soldier took advantage, looping a rope around his thick neck while another forced his legs down. Nyx fought. Gods, he fought. But pain slowed him. He wasn't invincible. Not yet.

Then—

A boot slammed into his ribs. A deep, cruel kick meant to hurt. Something inside me snapped.

"Touch him again," I snarled, voice razor-sharp, "and I will personally make sure you choke on your own teeth."

Erra turned, amusement flickering in his gaze. "You're awfully mouthy for a prisoner."

I bared my teeth in a mockery of a smile. "And you're awfully arrogant for someone just humiliated by a horse."

His lips twitched. "Amusing."

He gestured lazily and coldly for his men to back off. The ones still standing, at least. Nyx huffed, pinned but unharmed. For now. I forced my breathing steady. I needed time. A way out. Erra exhaled, studying me with a slow, measured look. Then—

"You were listening in. So tell me, Princess Ishtar, what does your kingdom know?"

I tilted my head. "Enough to be a thorn in your side."

"And yet, here you are, tied up and at my mercy." He stepped closer, voice dropping. "You have two choices, princess. I keep you as my slave. Or we talk."

I scoffed. "Talk?"

"A truce. Remain here as my prisoner like a good girl until my investigation is over."

I blinked. That was... unexpected.

A trap? Likely. But a temporary ceasefire would buy me time, keep Nyx safe. And Erra Asherah wasn't known for empty words. If he wanted information, he was playing a longer game than I'd thought.

I glanced at Nyx, then back at Erra.

"Fine," I said, smiling slowly. "But I don't trust you."

His smirk was sharp. "Good. I'd be disappointed if you did."