The forest was quiet in the early morning, almost unnaturally so. Evelyn stirred under the thin blanket in her small quarters, bruises painting her skin in shades of purple and blue. Her chest heaved with shallow breaths, remnants of the terror from the vampire attack still raw in her mind. Every muscle screamed, yet her body insisted she move, insisted she survive.
Lucien hovered nearby, golden eyes sharp, scanning every shadow as if the forest itself might try to strike again. The mate bond pulsed gently β or perhaps violently β reminding her that he was near, that he cared, that he would never let harm reach her.
βYou should rest,β Lucien said quietly, his voice low and rough. βBut I know you wonβt.β
Evelyn flinched under the intensity of his gaze. She wanted to argue, to say she was
