The clearing was too quiet. Too still.
Aria’s breath came hard and fast as she stared at the place where the cloaked man had stood. Every nerve in her body screamed at her to run after him, to demand answers, to tear the truth from his throat.
“Aria,” Killian warned, his voice low and sharp.
But she was already moving.
Her feet hit the forest floor, branches snapping beneath her boots. She didn’t shift — she couldn’t risk losing herself to her wolf right now — but the bond inside her thrummed like a drum, urging her forward.
“Aria!” Killian’s roar followed her, furious and desperate.
She ignored it.
The trees closed around her as she ran, heart pounding so hard it drowned out the world. Somewhere ahead, she heard the faintest whisper of movement — a cloak brushing against leaves, a
