KIRA

We broke camp at dawn and rode harder.

By midday of the second day, we found the first sign we were on the right track.

A campsite. Recently abandoned. And signs of a struggle—blood on the ground, torn fabric.

“Maya fought back,” Adrian observed, examining the scene. “She’s trying to slow him down, leave us a trail.”

“Smart woman,” Dante said. “Which means we’re getting close.”

We pushed on, following the trail Maya left.

By nightfall, we could see it in the ...