Chapter 6. They Won’t Bite

Kaelen didn’t sleep. He remained a shadow beneath the thickest pines, his dark silhouette blending seamlessly with the night. He maintained a silent, relentless vigil over the small apothecary cottage.

Moonfire. Mine.

The word thrummed beneath his skin, Sylas’s primal claim echoing Kaelen’s own furious determination. He had watched the window where Mira had disappeared into the lamplight, waiting for the first sign of trouble. The threat was still acute. He could still detect the faint, metallic odor of the wounded rogue, a subtle sign that Magnus’s hunters were still too close for comfort.

He was exhausted, his muscles rigid, but he refused to yield. He had sworn not to let her die alone in the dark. His only reward for this sleepless fury was the distant scent of chamomile and the frustrating knowledge that she was terrified but stubbornly safe inside.

The sky began to bleed pale light. Kaelen watched the cottage door. He was ready to tear the throat