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There are always more.
I shift, preparing to move—
—and Jase grabs my arm.
Firm.
Instant.
“Not that way.”
I freeze.
Not because of the grip.
Because of the tone.
That wasn’t a guess.
That was certainty.
“…how do you know?” I ask.
His jaw tightens.
“They’re waiting for you to go left.”
My pulse spikes.
“You can’t know that.”
His eyes flick to mine.
Dark.
Focused.
Certain.
“I do.”
That—
That is not a comforting answer.
Another round hits the log, splintering wood into my face.
No more time.
“Fine,” I snap. “Then where?”
He nods forward.
“Through.”
Of course.
Always through.
