Mark’s POV

The moment she turns and runs toward them, something in me snaps.

Not control.

Not instinct.

Something deeper.

Because I know that look.

I have seen it before.

Not in her.

In people who have already decided what they are willing to lose.

And I am not letting her become one of them.

“Rissa!” I shout, already moving.

Too late.

She is gone.

Not gone gone.

But far enough that the Hunters close in around her, their formation swallowing her path, their focus locking ...