Chapter 48

• Cassian and I spent hours crafting the lie. It had to be airtight—every breath, every glance, every pause needed to sell it. Cassian paced the floor of the crumbling watchtower we had claimed as our base, while I leaned over the war table, eyes fixed on the worn-out map.
• “The hunters had hidden her well,” I said aloud, rehearsing. “Their trap was perfectly set. We were caught in open terrain, exposed. It wasn’t even a full lie—that’s exactly how it happened. The timing, the placement… as if they had studied our every tactic. They knew when we'd arrive and how we’d move. The terrain offered no cover, and every escape route was lined with pressure snares and arrow triggers. It had to look like a narrow escape—not a failure, but a calculated retreat. Enough truth to disarm suspicion, enough uncertainty to keep Alaric guessing.”
• Cassian grunted. “And we barely made it back alive.”