I required questions—about the bond, about Kane, about why fate had entwined our lives together so savagely.

Later that night, when the house lay quiet and my mother had retired to her chambers, I fled. The winter forest called to me with a siren's call of promise and danger. It was stupid, irresponsible, and suicidal. But I could not be trapped in silence.

I moved stealthily between the trees, a ghost, my senses tracking the odor I could hardly tolerate—Adrian Kane's fragrance in the air even in winter. Wherever the battle had raged within a short radius of the border, there were fresh tracks in the snow. Tracks of a wolf, large and confident.

My heartbeat throbbed. I did not know if I was frightened or anticipating whatever this bond could lead me to.

Under the menacing grey sky, I shouted softly, voice trembling, "Adrian?"

The wind answered for a moment. Then a figure appeared behind a tree. Dark and tall, black fur with flecks of snow, blazing eyes with that smelting silver fire.

His wolf form. Adrian had come.

"You shouldn't be here," his voice was low and gritty, with hardly more than a trace of threat lurking beneath. "This is not a safe location—neither for you nor for me."

His gaze warmed, though, and the storm of emotion rushing between us only intensified. "Why did you come?"

I gulped hard, the bond straining. "Because I wanted to know. Because whatever this is me and you, it's not war or nightmare. It's real, and I don't know how yet. But I can't let it alone."

He shifted then, bones cracking and fur drawing back until he was standing there, human and formidable. His dark eyes latched onto mine with a savagery that was almost too much.