Thoren
I crouched beside the bedroll and inhaled deeply.
Under the layer of fading Nevara… something else. Masculine. Sharp. Like pine needles crushed under boot leather and something darker beneath it—familiar in a way that made my teeth ache.
I closed my eyes, tracking it through memory.
And then it hit me like a blade to the ribs.
“Tobias.”
Michelle looked up sharply. “You’re sure?”
I nodded, jaw tight. “I’d know his scent anywhere. He was here. He took her.”
My claws extended without thought, gouging into the tent pole until the wood cracked.
“He was just here,” I ground out. “Her scent hasn’t faded. He waited until she was asleep. Waited until she was vulnerable.”
Michelle was already scanning the ground. “There’s a second trail here. Drag marks. Heavy bootprints. They go no
