03

CHAPTER 2

The flames had died hours ago, yet the alley still carried the scent of burning wood, charred stone, and fear. Nyra Valoch stumbled over a broken beam, clutching the side of her ribs where the bruises from the explosion had begun to bloom. Cyrus guided her through the narrow street, his hand anchored firmly around her wrist.

“Keep your head down,” he whispered. “Scout towers rotate every seven minutes. If they spot us, we’re done.”

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