Salwakhan
They were close. She could feel it in her bones-a prickling under her skin, like invisible eyes tracking her every faltering step. The locket's chill spread through her chest, numbing her fingers even inside thick gloves.
A branch cracked behind her-sharp as a whip in the stillness.
No. Not now. Please, not now. I'm not ready.
Elara spun, knife already drawn from her belt, heart hammering so hard she felt it in her throat.
He emerged from the darkness like a blade drawn from shadow.
Damien Blackwood.
Tall, unyielding, auburn hair wild from the wind, streaked with frost. His crimson cloak snapped behind him like a banner of war, runes along the hem flickering with faint gold light that pushed back the red moonlight.
Running again, Elara Voss?" His voice cut through the wind-low, rough, edged with something dangerous and tired all at once.
"Wrong direction."
He found me. Again. How does he always find me? Does the locket call to him too? Or is it something worse-something bound between us that I can't see?
......