Selene

The rustle outside the tent had my heart slamming against my ribs, the afterglow of Draven’s touch snuffed out by the sharp edge of danger. I scrambled for my leathers, yanking them on as Draven grabbed his dagger, ready to strike. The footsteps stopped, followed by a low, ragged cough – the sound too human to be a rogue. Draven’s eyes met mine, raising a single brow in question, and he gestured for me to stay low. He crept to the tent flap, knife glinting in the lantern’s dim glow, and pulled it aside.

“Show yourself,” he growled, his voice carrying that fearless command that made the air hum....