Serena had been tracking the lone rogue for nearly half an hour, keeping her movements silent, controlled, every instinct sharpened to a fine point. The snow muted most sound, but she could still hear the rogue’s labored breaths just ahead—fast, uneven, frantic.
Not the pattern of a predator.
The pattern of someone running from something.
Or someone afraid.
Serena slowed, nostrils flaring. The girl’s scent was sharp with fear, but beneath it—familiar. Not familiar in a personal sense, but familiar in that it matched another scent they’d picked up days ago. One that Rowan had followed into the storm. One he still hadn’t returned from.
The rogue stumbled into view between two snow-heavy pines. Young. Small. Wild golden eyes. Mud streaked across her cheeks, and blood—some dried, some fre
