Chapter 5. The Wolf’s Hour

The woods were alive tonight. Not peaceful, not still—alive. Kaelen moved through the dark with a predator’s silence, every sense tuned to the rhythm of the forest.

Mira hadn’t planned to come this far. She focused intently on the valerian, a tactic she’d learned to quell the relentless, pulsing silver ache that hadn’t stopped since Kaelen’s touch. But the forest shifted. A crunch of leaves. Heavy. Deliberate. Mira froze.

A shadow detached itself from the trees. “Don’t move.” The voice was low, hard. Commanding.

“Kaelen?”

He stepped into the light—broad-shouldered, knife drawn, eyes sharp as green glass.

“What the hell are you doing out here?” he demanded.

Mira’s grip on the scissors tightened. “Collecting herbs. What are you doing? Hunting women?”

His gaze narrowed. “You’ve been seen out here before,” he said, moving closer. “Why do you smell like moonlight and blood?” He reached for her wrist.

She jerked back and scissors flashed in