The gorge was like a wound in the earth, its black stone walls cut deep by the raging river. Mist rose where the water hit the rocks, pale and ghostlike in the fading light. Seraphina stood at the edge, fists tight, while the others gathered around Dane’s weakening body. Every rough breath he took scraped at her nerves like a blade.
Her wolf pushed hard against her chest, desperate.
Then the sound of cracking stone broke the night. Footsteps.
Killian’s hand was at his blade in an instant. Bren rose to his feet, every muscle taut, while Liora froze with blood still drying on her fingers.
From the mist, a figure emerged. Cloaked in pale gray, hood shadowing the face, staff in hand. The stranger walked unhurriedly.
“Stay back,” Killian warned, his voice form.
The stranger lifted their f
