ARIA
We had to survive first.
The wind shifted high in the branches, brushing over my skin, slipping through my hair. Then it brought him with it.
His scent.
Sharp. Familiar. Wrong.
Rook.
He was close. Too close.
A tremor worked through my arms before I could stop it. Both hands tightened around the branch, fingers digging into the rough bark until it hurt. The pain helped me focus. The knife came free from my belt.
My grip was damp, so I adjusted it, then held the blade between my teeth. Slow breaths. Careful movement. I shifted along the branch, inch by inch, easing my weight forward until I could see a clear path to the ground below.
No branches in the way. No roots to trip me.
It had to be timed perfectly.
Below, Rook’s wolf moved through the brush with slow purpose. His b
