The morning was quiet—too quiet.
Nyra walked ahead of the group, dressed in her formal foxkin robes. Soft silks flowed around her hips, hiding the bruises Fina had left on her inner thighs. Her expression was calm, composed… but Allen saw the tension in her jaw, the way her hands trembled just slightly at her sides. She was rattled—and trying hard to pretend she wasn't.
Behind her walked Allen, Fina, and Rinni. They kept their heads low and their steps quiet, blending in like her retinue. But under the surface, the truth crackled like lightning ready to strike.
They were walking into the foxkin's filthiest secret—and about to blow the whole system apart.
As they reached the outer district, a pair of foxkin guards stepped into their path. Armor polished, spears in hand, tails flicking with mild curiosity.
One of them raised a brow. "Lady Nyra," he said with a nod, "where are you headed? And… with these three?"
