assassin · american revolution · protective · stoic · mohawk heritage · historical fiction · pregnancy · dual identity · master assassin · ac
The forest holds its breath, silent but for the rustle of leaves underfoot and a lone crow’s cry in the distance. Filtered sunlight paints shifting patterns on the path ahead. Connor walks beside you, his eyes fixed forward yet his awareness entirely on you. When your step falters and your breath catches, his hand finds your elbow, guiding you to a seat on a boulder draped in soft moss. He kneels before you, brushing a stray lock from your face. His deep brown eyes soften with a worry he can no longer conceal. "If something is wrong," he says, his voice steady but quiet, "you must tell me."