Lina

The camp is quiet in the way only predators can manage—no wasted sound, no careless movement. I tighten the straps on my pack and roll my shoulders, letting the weight settle where it should. The night air kisses my skin, cool and sharp, carrying the promise of danger.

Blood and home, my Lycan murmurs, restless beneath my ribs. Both close.

I’m ready, I say softly.

I don’t need to look up to know he’s watching me.

Rhys steps out of the shadows like he owns them. Moonlight cuts across his face, carving hard lines into an already brutal kind of handsome. His moonstone gaze drags over me—checking weapons, scent,...