The crackling fire cast a warm glow over the camp, but a chill of tension still lingered in the air. Alaric had retreated to the shadows, his gaze shifting between Zia and Leon, his jealousy and frustration barely concealed. Lady Isolde sat quietly, her elegant posture belying the emotional storm brewing within her. Emory remained close to the fire, the calm heart of their group, ready to soothe tempers if needed.
As the evening settled in, Leon nudged Zia gently and nodded toward the edge of the camp. They moved quietly into the forest, seeking the privacy they so rarely found. Once they were far enough, Leon leaned back against a tree, letting out a sigh as he glanced at her, the glint in his eyes soft and contemplative.
"Do you ever wonder what might have happened if we'd never crossed paths?" he asked quietly.