Ghosts on the Wind
The sound of breaking branches startled Millie awake. She shot up, hand on her blade, her eyes darting through the dark forest. Around her, shadows danced in the dim firelight, flickering with the tension that had settled thick as fog over the camp. The children stirred, too, their faces hidden in blankets, their breathing shallow with a shared fear that sleep had only quieted, not erased.

Millie scanned the edges of their clearing, muscles coiled tight, prepared for anything. But it was only Peter, returning from his patrol, slipping back into camp like the ghost he was so skilled at becoming. His face was grave tonight, typically set in an easy, playful grin. He crouched beside her, his voice barely a whisper.

"They’re closer than I thought," he murmured, glancing at the children. "The Grim's patrols are combing the woods in tighter circles. We’re going to have to move at first light."

Millie nodded, her jaw clenched. "Any chance we can slip by them?"

Peter shook his head, his eyes s
Continue to read this book on the App

Related Chapters

Latest Chapter