CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
The wind whispers secrets through the mountain pass, carrying scents and sounds that set my nerves on edge. My heart hammers against my ribcage, a wild drumbeat that matches the swift current of panic coursing through my veins. Love's hand finds mine, her grip firm and steadying, tethering me to the here and now.
"Someone's coming," I hiss, straining my ears against the rustle of spring leaves and the distant murmur of the ravine's waters. It's not the gentle approach of a deer or the skittering of a squirrel—this is the heavy tread of boots, the c***k of twigs beneath determined steps.
"Get ready," Kyle murmurs, positioning himself beside us with shoulders squared, eyes scanning the terrain for any hint of movement. His willingness to stand with us, even though he do
