Chapter 27 The Anchor

• Raya’s POV
• The old hunting cabin was less shelter and more relic, a low-slung structure of moss-covered timber and sagging shingles tucked deep within a fold of the coastal hills. It was far from the established lines of travel, obscured by dense growth and the perpetual mist that clung to the sea-adjacent ridges. The journey had been punishing. Kaelen’s breathing was shallow, the cold strikes of the binding spell more frequent, and by the time we reached the cabin’s overgrown clearing, he was moving purely on residual discipline.
• I forced the rotting door open, the wood groaning a protest that felt monumental in the oppressive quiet. The interior was precisely as abandoned lodgings should be: stale air, dust thick on everything, and a singular, rickety cot pushed against the damp stone hearth.