The sign said “Private Land. No Trespassing.”
She stepped over it anyway.
Maple’s job wasn’t exactly legal — but when her editor offered double pay for candid wildlife photos on untracked land, she hadn’t thought twice. Black bears. Cougars. Maybe a wolf if she was lucky.
What she didn’t expect was a steel trap snapping shut two feet from her boot.
She froze.
It was massive. Rusted. Deadly.
And she hadn’t seen it until it was too late.
Her heart pounded as she backed away slowly, scanning the forest floor now with new eyes. There were dozens of them. Hidden under moss. Buried in leaves. Perfectly placed.
Then she heard the voice.
“You’re not very good at being quiet.”
She whipped around.
A man stepped out from the trees. Not emerged — stepped. Like he was made of the forest.
He
