Danielle watched as Rowan continued toward the lake, small boots crunching softly over pebbled dirt. He did not hesitate. He did not slow. The warning in John’s voice seemed to slide past him without registering.
Around her, packs hit the ground one by one. Fabric rustled. Buckles clicked open. The sounds felt distant, muffled, like they were coming from underwater. Her heartbeat filled her ears instead, loud and frantic.
“Rowan!” she cried, the word tearing out of her chest. The wrongness radiating from the lake pressed hard against her senses, a deep, instinctive alarm. “Stop!”
He did not.
Her voice seemed to draw the attention of the others, however, as the sounds of movements stopped. A sharp intake of breath rippled through the group as Rowan stepped fully into the water. Then ano
