Silas smiles.
It is slow. Deliberate. As if he has all the time in the world and wants me to feel that fact settle into my bones. The expression does not reach his eyes, not fully. What moves there instead is recognition, sharp and almost reverent, like I have just spoken something sacred rather than dangerous.
The forest reacts before I do.
Not violently. Not loudly. Subtly, but unmistakably. A ripple passes through the clearing, like breath drawn in through a thousand throats at once. Birds scatter from the upper branches in a sudden rush of wings, feathers slicing the air in frantic arcs. Leaves tremble even where there is no wind. The air itself seems to hesitate, then shift direction, curling wrong, pressing against my skin instead of moving past it.
This is not just about him.
T
