Every step Lucien took was made with purpose.

Wolves practically leaped out of his way as he plowed through the market square. He had pulled the hood of his cloak low. But that wasn’t enough to make him as invisible as he hoped.

The cloak cast a shadow on his face, making him look like a ghost of death. He gripped his new cane – made from the trunk of a willow tree – and tapped it rhythmically on the old stone path.

Since he had decided that he was going to act as if he wasn’t healed, then he knew he needed a cane. He had chosen one that...