Eyes wide, she lifted her face, her cold gaze meeting the unknown man who had seized her with startling speed. A hiss sliced through the air beside her, low and threatening, and Easther’s mind sharpened instantly, every muscle tensing in anticipation. Whatever lurked here, she realized, the forest had just begun to reveal its true danger.
A cold flash of motion cut across her vision, followed by a warm, sticky splash across her face, the metallic tang making her nose wrinkle. Easther’s gaze darted toward the source, and her large, calculating eyes widened in realization.
The “vine” she had used to escape the marsh was no vine at all—it was a snake, thick and writhing, its scales slick and glistening, its head snapping toward her. No wonder it had felt smooth and elastic beneath her hands
