They cleared the settlement by mid-morning and kept the horses at a steady pace until the last low stone walls dropped out of sight behind them.
The country south of the Broken Spur was gentler than the highlands—rolling pasture, scattered farmsteads, and the occasional stand of real trees—but it still felt exposed.
Every dust plume on the horizon earned a second look, and more than once Aiden's hand drifted toward the hilt at his side before the plume resolved into nothing more dangerous than wind or a lone rider who wanted nothing to do with them.
Selene rode with the pouch tucked under her jacket and one hand resting near it out of habit. The weight of it had become familiar, like a second heartbeat she could not ignore.
"Two days of easy ground and I'll start believing we're allowed to breathe," she said.
