“Council’s calling an emergency session. Emmett wants you there. Now.”
Tristan glanced once more at the fading tracks. “On my way.”
He went back inside long enough to pull on socks, boots, and his black tactical coat. He banked the embers, set the wards to hold, and stepped out into the white.
He didn’t follow the route Maren had taken. He cut directly toward town through the trees, boots biting into crusted snow. The cold woke every nerve. Branches rattled overhead, dumping powder down his collar. His tiger stayed close to the surface, restless in a way that had nothing to do with the weather.
She’s gone..
Still, as he moved, he checked the air, the sway of the Veil around Hollow Oak. If she’d crossed the boundary, there would’ve been a ripple. A shift.
Nothing.
She was still in Hollow Oak.
The weather had permitted them to meet in the Glade, also allowing them privacy from the fearful town. It glowed weakly under heavy sky. Lanterns hung from bare branches, their light dulled by frost clinging to the glass. Snow lay knee-deep around the standing stones; narrow paths had been kicked through by early arrivals.
Emmett stood near the center stone, broad frame wrapped in a dark coat, snow stuck in his hair and beard. Miriam waited at his side, hands in her pockets, eyes sharp behind fogged spectacles. Bram prowled the opposite side of the circle like a black-clad crow.
Tristan stepped into the clearing. The cold cut straight through his coat.
“Good, you’re here,” Emmett said. “We’ll keep this short.”
“Depends on whether we finally do something,” Bram shot back. His breath smoked in the air. “Talking hasn’t done much so far.”
“We’re not starting with that tone,” Miriam said mildly. “My ears can’t handle it before daylight.”
Tristan took up a position just inside the circle, not quite in the middle, not quite at the edge. Good sightlines. Clear escape routes.
“Report, Ash,” Emmett said. “How was the night?”
“Quiet,” Tristan answered. “No sign of the mob. No sign of the doppelgänger.”
“And Maren?” Bram asked, too quickly.
“She’s not at the cabin,” Tristan said. “She left before dawn.”
Silence hit hard.
“Left?” Bram’s voice sharpened. “Or fled?”
Tristan kept his expression neutral. “Her things are gone. Tracks lead toward town, not away from it.”
“So she’s still in Hollow Oak,” Miriam said.
“For now,” Bram muttered.
Emmett’s gaze fixed on Tristan. “Did something happen?”
Tristan thought of her hand on his chest, her dark shadows curled around them both, the way the cabin had felt warmer with her in it. The way the bed felt wrong without her there.
“Nothing relevant to Council business,” he said.
Miriam’s eyebrow ticked up. Emmett didn’t push.
“Alright,” Emmett said. “Mills?”
Mills stepped from the shadow of a pine, cheeks red from the cold. “Another incident at the Wells property,” he reported. “Wards flickered, family panicked, nothing physically damaged. Again, shadow signature mixed with something else we still can’t pin down.”
