Marco POV
“Where the hell is he?” I mutter under my breath.
I check my watch again, the hands ticking past the agreed time, and grimace. The treeline looms dark and impenetrable on either side of this godforsaken dirt road, stretching north and south like a vein through the wilderness.
The midmorning wind chills my skin through my jacket. Doubt creeps in, gnawing at the edges of my resolve. Is this really the right move? Am I walking into a trap, or worse, sealing my own fate?
Viktoria stands beside me, hugging her hands around her. She's wearing a red sweater and blue jeans. I've been struggling not to look in her face. She looks leaner now, yet strikingly beautiful.
Once again I ask myself: why her? Why not Kyra, with her fierce loyalty and the future we're supposed to build? Or
