The forest was alive with whispers, shadows twisting and stretching as though they were aware of her presence. Evelyn’s bare feet pressed against the cold, damp earth, each step cautious, her muscles still sore from yesterday’s trials. The bond throbbed sharply, a pulse she could not ignore, tugging her toward Lucien even as she tried to resist.
Her breath hitched. Every leaf, every movement in the underbrush felt like a potential threat. She had learned to trust nothing—not the forest, not the pack, not even her own senses. Her powers, barely understood and uncontrollable, flickered beneath her skin. A faint hum rose in the metal she carried, a dagger in her belt vibrating subtly as if warning her of unseen eyes.
“Evelyn,” a low voice called from behind a cluster of oaks.
She froze, he
