The woods were silent. Not the calm, peaceful kind of silent, but the kind that pressed against your chest like a weight. Even the birds had fled, and that was never a good sign.

Celeste crouched low behind a fallen log, heart hammering in her chest. Beside her, Hunter’s breathing was steady and controlled. Too controlled. His wolf, Rogue, was just beneath the surface, snarling for release.

Fallon was close.

The ambush had been perfectly timed, but this time, it wasn’t Fallon catching ...