He snarled, low and furious. “And that bastard kept her alive?”
The venom in his voice struck like a blade. The woman didn’t answer.
She opened her mouth, perhaps to offer an explanation, a guess—but he cut her off before the words came.
“And how, exactly, do you know this?”
The question landed like a trap, sharp and waiting.
The woman stiffened. She hadn’t expected that. Her silence stretched too long.
Then, carefully, she chose her words.
“On the night we scouted the Black Oak border,” she said, “I caught a scent.”
“A scent,” he repeated, voice like ice.
“The forbidden one,” she clarified. “Faint… but distinct. One that only she has. At first, I thought it was someone else. I dismissed it. But then, after the attack on Silver Claw the next day… when we found no trace of her…”
S
