Chapter 24. A Mate’s Desperation

The message came on wind-scented parchment.

No crest. No name. Only six words burned into the fibers:

Come to the old graves tonight.

Neriah read it once, twice, three times. Her hands shook, adrenaline prickling cold beneath her skin. The flame inside her flared the moment her fingers brushed the ink, as if it already knew who had written it. Caius. Only he would dare find her here, only he would risk everything for a meeting beneath the eyes of the dead.

She didn’t sleep that night. She moved through camp like a shadow, silent and unseen, gathering her courage as if it were armor. She slipped away when the moon crested the trees, leaving behind the safety of flickering watchfires and the low, restless breathing of wolves. She moved up the cold ridge path, boots sliding on slick roots, the wind cutting through her cloak. The forest was a wall of darkness and memory. Mist drifted low, swirling around her feet, chill and biting, whispering warnings she