Every part of me urged to flee. To plunge into the foliage and vanish before those entities caught up to me. My legs hurt. My lungs ached. Every nerve was alert, urging me to act, to endure. Silas’s grip on my wrist held me steady. Without it, I would have been consumed by anxiety.

“They're surrounding us,” he murmured, softly enough that the shadows appeared to draw nearer. “We are short on time.”

I gulped, sensing fear and something more intense—anger, longing, a blend that ...