Nyra did not sleep that night.
She lay still long after the cave had fallen into silence, her breathing slow and even, her body perfectly relaxed in a way that would have convinced anyone watching that she had given in to rest.
She hadn't.
Her mind remained sharp beneath the stillness, her awareness stretched outward, listening, waiting, tracking every subtle shift within the cave.
The triplets slept.
She could hear it in the steady rhythm of their breathing, feel it in the way the bond between them had quieted into something dormant. There was no tension in them, no alertness, nothing that suggested they expected anything to happen.
But Nyra did.
She had learned to trust that instinct.
And it did not take long.
The movement was subtle, almost silent, but Nyra caught it immediately—the faint shift of fabric, the careful adjustment of weight as someone rose without disturbing the rest.
Selena.
Nyra did not open her eyes right away.
She waited.
Counted the seconds.
