“Who are you, and how did you track us?” Cassian demanded, his voice dropping into a dangerous, low rumble as he stepped directly into the threshold, completely blocking the stranger’s path into the small stone room. His hand remained glued to the grip of his heavy sword.
The dark shadow shifted slowly, stepping through the decaying archway and into the soft, blue light spilling from my open bag. He was an elderly man, his stooped shoulders wrapped in a frayed, moth-eaten cloak. Deep lines were carved into his weathered skin, but his pale eyes burned with a strange, clear intensity that immediately caught my breath. He didn't reach for a weapon. Instead, he raised two calloused hands, palms open in a peaceful gesture.
“Lower your steel, Alpha King,” the old man said, his raspy voice carr
