The forest was alive with sound—rustling leaves, snapping branches, distant footsteps.

I pressed myself against the wall of the safehouse, heart hammering, eyes wide. The air smelled of wet earth and smoke, thick with tension. I could feel Dante’s presence behind me, the heat of him radiating, his muscles taut, every movement precise. He didn’t speak. He didn’t need to. Danger was crawling toward us like a predator, and we were trapped together in the small, dimly lit room.

I swallowed hard, chest tight. Every nerve in my body screamed that something was coming. And I was right.

---

A sudden crash at the side door made me jump.

Dante’s...