Morning came softly.
The fire had dwindled to glowing embers.
A faint breeze slipped through the mouth of the cave, carrying with it the scent of damp moss and distant death.
Kael was at peace.
For exactly three seconds.
Then—pressure.
Around his neck.
Tight.
Strangling.
His eyes snapped open in full survival mode. Instincts screamed:
Enemy attack.
Someone's trying to kill me in my sleep.
He jolted upright—
—or tried to.
Instead, he found himself wrapped in a vice grip of limbs and… mumbling?
He turned his head in panic.
Elara.
Murmuring softly in her sleep.
Something about "don't take my teddy…"
Her arms were locked around Kael's neck like she was trying to fuse him with the mattress.
Kael wheezed, blinking in disbelief.