The edge of a sword pressed just hard enough to remind her how thin skin really was. Firelight flickered against polished metal. The last embers of a dying bonfire cast orange shadows along the cave walls.
She inhaled once. Sharp and controlled.
Her gaze traveled upward, unhurried, until she met a pair of eyes so dark they looked carved from the abyss itself. Deep. Still. Cold.
For one brief heartbeat, her pulse kicked. Then discipline returned.
Her eyes shifted, scanning the cave in a single sweep.
Two silhouettes stood rigid in the corner, unbound and safe.
Relief slid through her quietly.
Sunlight filtered faintly through hairline cracks in the cave walls, pale beams slicing through dust and mist. The waterfall outside still roared, steady and indifferent.
Lara's eyes drifted upward—
—and her breath hitched.
A jagged stalactite hung directly above her, its pointed tip angled toward her forehead like a suspended execution blade.
