The forest was dead quiet.

Lyla stood at the edge of Ridge territory, her breath sharp beneath the cold bite of night air.

The moonlight filtered thinly through the skeletal branches above them, casting pale silver light across the frost-laced ground. The cold was unnatural too sharp. Too thin.

He was close.

Jonas crouched beside her, his dark gaze cutting toward the tree line. His body was low and coiled with tension. Eli stood at her right side, his silver eyes burning beneath the ...