When Edwin’s arm slipped around the woman’s waist, the closeness revealed a telling detail—her skin carried no warmth, no flush at all. Nothing of the embarrassed heat that might have risen to Aedrianna’s cheeks.

And when he tried to lower the cub into her satchel, the little creature’s reaction was immediate. It snarled and lashed out with tiny claws, swiping furiously before twisting back into his grip. In a heartbeat, it clambered up the length of his arm and pressed itself tight against his shoulder, hackles raised and a low growl rumbling at its throat.

“Aedrianna” grimaced.

[COLOR=Red]“You didn’t kill it?!”[/COLOR]

Her voice was sharp, frustrated—wrong. For a flicker, the illusion faltered. Hair that should have been pale shimmered into a cascade of pink, and eyes that should have been violet-blue burned instead with cold amethyst fire. The shimmer snapped back into place, her form settling into its borrowed face, but the crack in her disguise lingered.

Before Edwin could press her, noise surged from beyond the ruin.

It was not a single sound, but a rising cacophony—the thundering whinny of a warhorse, the guttural snarl of a beast, voices shouting over one another in alarm. The jungle outside was no longer silent; it boiled with commotion.

The woman shifted subtly, as though to block his path.

Then, sudden and jarring, two men stumbled into the chamber. Their movements were frantic, eyes wide with the wild edge of prey that knew it was being hunted. They froze for only a heartbeat, staring between Edwin and the woman wearing Aedrianna’s face—then their hands shot to their belts.

Steel glinted in the gloom as both drew daggers, exchanging one quick, silent look before charging forward.

The echo of their boots on stone rang loud in the chamber, blades raised high as they rushed in to drive the points home.