= Mikael =
The first thing I noticed wasn’t the rogue.
It was Amara.
She froze beside me, utterly still. And I mean still—the kind of stillness that didn’t come from distraction, hesitation, or uncertainty. No, this was different. Sharp. Calculated. The kind of stillness a predator adopts before striking. Her muscles coiled beneath her skin, subtle yet undeniable, as if every fiber of her being had been rewired to listen, to watch, to anticipate.
Her body angled just slightly toward the tree line, almost imperceptibly, but enough that I knew she had already picked the direction of danger. Her shoulders tensed, her chin lifted with a quiet defiance, and there was a tension in her stance that screamed focus, attention, readiness.
And the forest obeyed her.
It was too silent.
No whispe
