The forest had not changed.
That was the first thing Seraphine noticed as she stepped beneath the towering pines of Nightfall territory.
The air smelled the same.
Earth.
Rain.
Wolf.
The pack had always chosen strong land. Ancient land. The kind of territory that held power in its bones.
It should have comforted her.
Instead, it hurt.
Every step deeper into the forest felt like reopening an old wound.
Beside her, the immortal moved silently through the trees, his presence unnaturally still compared to the restless life around them.
“You’re slowing down,” he said quietly.
Seraphine didn’t answer.
She knew these paths.
Every turn.
Every stream.
Every ridge where wolves trained under the moon.
Memories attacked her from every direction.
Lucien laughing during a hunt.
The sou
