CASSANDRA’S POV . . The wind howled through the trees, sending icy fingers creeping beneath my tattered clothes. I tried to fix it as I followed Cyprus up the uneven path. The moon hung low, shrouded by thick clouds, casting only the faintest glow over the forest. Every shadow seemed to stretch and twist, an ominous reminder of the things lurking just beyond my sight. Then, as if summoned from the darkness itself, the cottage appeared. The wooden structure was barely standing, its roof sagging in the middle, the walls marred by time and neglect. A place forgotten. A place hidden. Perfect for us. “We can stay here for the night,” Cyprus said, his voice steady, though I could hear the underlying strain. I nodded, unwilling to offer more than necessary. Words felt dangerous, each one a