Caden’s POV
Caden sat in a corner of the tavern, far from the fire and miles away from the pack house. The air was thick with the smell of cheap ale and smoke. Usually, he liked the noise because it helped him think more clearly.
But tonight, he couldn't focus.
He had spent the last few hours meeting a contact. He was trying to find more information about the men who had attacked them in the forest. He needed to know who was brave enough to shoot an arrow at him. He was actually impressed.
But his mind kept drifting.
Every few minutes, a strange, sharp cold washed over him. It felt like ice water in his veins and his chest felt tight, like a heavy stone was sitting on his lungs. He kept looking around, thinking someone was watching him, but the room was empty.
‘What is wrong with
