Lucien’s POV
The scent hit me first—acrid and wrong, like burning sage tainted with iron. Not a rogue. Not a common trespasser. This was precise. Calculated.
Council.
I stepped into the clearing just beyond the estate wall, Dante shadowing me like a second skin. His eyes were locked on the treeline, jaw tight.
“He was here. Less than ten minutes ago,” Dante murmured.
I nodded once, crouching to the dirt where a faint footprint marred the moss. Too clean. Not careless. They’d wanted to be seen—just not caught.
A warning.
They knew Elena was here.
I clenched my fists, the wolf inside me snarling. The bond pulsed faintly, like a heartbeat echoing through my blood. She was safe, still inside the estate, guarded. But not for long.
They were watching us.
They always had been.
---
My
