The rustling from the treeline sends a chill down Elara’s spine. She grips Damien’s arm, her heartbeat slamming against her ribs.
“Did you hear that?” she whispers.
Damien doesn’t answer immediately. His body stiffens, every muscle coiled like a predator ready to strike. His sharp gaze sweeps over the woods, scanning for any sign of movement. The morning sun flickers through the leaves, casting shifting shadows across the ground.
Another rustle.
Damien steps forward, shielding Elara behind him. “Stay here,” he murmurs, his voice dangerously low.
“Are you insane?” she hisses, grabbing his wrist before he can go any farther. “What if it’s—”
The bushes part.
A small, scrawny dog stumbles out, its fur matted with dirt, ribs jutting out from its thin frame. It looks up at them with wide,
