Rollins's POV
It was the fourth hour, and I had been awake.
Not from nightmares. Not from the war-room weight of fourteen days and eastern borders and a pale horse that was already halfway back to wherever Claus was counting them down. I had woken from the specific, quiet alertness that came when something was wrong in my pack, and my instincts knew it before my mind caught up.
I had reached out to Emily in the dark and discovered the place beside me vacant and chilly.
I had tracked her through the bond — steady, focused, purposeful — moving through the keep toward the eastern yard. Moving, I realized after a moment, with the deliberate unhurried pace of someone who had chosen their hour carefully.
I had rushed out, dressed, and trailed.
I heard Marcus's voice before I
