The wind whispered through the ruined city like the breath of something ancient and dying. The Exiled Legions stood together, tension coiling around them as thickly as the shadows that stretched across the crumbling walls.
Cain's gaze was locked on the space where Liora had vanished, his jaw tight with frustration. "We need time to consider your offer," he had said. And now, the weight of that decision lingered in the silence between them.
But the truth was—this wasn't about saving Liam.
Not entirely.
Not for them.
Nick was the first to speak, his voice low and biting. "We're wasting time. You heard her—Faye's obsession is slowing the resurrection, but that won't last forever."
Archer scoffed, adjusting the strap of his bow. "And we're supposed to trust her? The second that witch gets what she wants, we'll be dead before we can even draw a blade."