Selena.
I knew something was wrong after I got back from my training. I wasn't sure what it was, but I could tell it was there.
It was a feeling—quiet, persistent, sitting just beneath my skin like something trying to get my attention without fully revealing itself.
I stayed still, my breathing slow and even, my body relaxed in a way that would convince anyone watching that I was still asleep.
But I wasn't.
Not fully.
The memory returned too easily—the sharp crack of a branch, the way the air had shifted, the unmistakable awareness that I hadn't been alone. I had searched carefully, stretched my senses as far as I could, and found nothing.
That didn't mean no one had been there.
It just meant they were good enough not to be found.
