Alpha Keith POV
The scent was fading.
I crouched at the edge of the treeline just outside of Maple Glen, brushing my fingers over disturbed leaves and broken twigs. The marks there were subtle, careful. They were unlikely to be found by any except the best of trackers.
I inhaled slowly. She was there, just barely, under the damp earth in the forest. My Willow.
Even weakened by time and distance, her scent cut through everything else—sharp, bright jasmine carried on the wind. But the trail had already gone cold.
It was deliberate. She’d tried to cover it.
The thought settled into place with quiet satisfaction, even as irritation coiled beneath it. She was learning. Adapting. Running.
My jaw tightened as I straightened, my gaze sweeping the woods. She’d been here recently. If I hadn’t
