The forest was quiet—too quiet.

Evelyn stood still at the edge of the clearing, her dagger gripped tightly in her hand, her breathing slow and steady. The sky above was a dull gray, heavy with clouds, and the scent of rain lingered in the air. But beneath the scent of damp leaves and bark was something far more dangerous—wolves. Not just any wolves. Bounty hunters.

“They’re close,” Ronan muttered beside her. His voice was low and calm, but his posture was tense. One hand hovered ...