Julian blinked once. “Now?”
“Yes. Before they move again.”
“I can send a team—”
“No,” Dominic’s tone was final. “You and me. We keep it focused and quick.”
Julian studied him for a long moment, expression calculated. “You’re sure this isn’t about something else?”
Dominic paused at the threshold of the room. “Meaning?”
“Meaning,” Julian said quietly, “you’ve had reports for weeks. You never insisted on personally investigating until today.”
Dominic didn’t reply.
“Curious,” Julian murmured.
Dominic’s voice came low and lethal, “Drop it, Rook. You overstep.”
Julian dipped his head. “As you wish, Alpha.”
Dominic turned and left, the door slamming shut.
***
The forest north of the Volkhov territory was almost unnaturally silent. Pines rose in black ranks, ghostly against the young night. It had taken them mere hours to cross the mountains, their wolves agile and quick. But now they were nearing the edge of Volnoye territory, and Dominic knew to stay cautious. He moved through it like a shadow, his breath clouding faintly in the air. Behind him, quieter still, Julian followed.
They hadn’t spoken since leaving Skymist.
The path had long since vanished; now there were only the faint impression of old tracks beneath the snow. Every sense in Dominic’s body was alert. The cold press of the wind, the scent of stone, the weight of Julian’s steady presence at his back.
Finally, he broke the silence, “How far?”
“Half a mile,” Julian murmured. “Down through the valley side a bit further. We just passed one of the entrances to the mines.”
Dominic grunted acknowledgment and pushed forward.
He could feel Julian’s eyes on him sometimes, that patient, measuring gaze. It wasn’t suspicion, exactly, but it grated on him all the same. Rook was too good at reading people. It was what made him such an effective spy. But sometimes, Dominic wished he’d refrain from turning that uncanny look on him.
The air thickened as they descended. The scent changed from clean frost to something earthier. The trees grew sparse, giving way to a valley of skeletal shapes.
Voskresen.
What had once been a mining settlement lay in ruins beneath a dusting of snow. Roofs sagged inward; beams juttedat broken angles. A rusted pump stood in the center square, surrounded by the hollow shells of houses. The ground was marked with tracks. And not old ones.
Julian stopped beside him, scanning the ruins. “Abandoned, but not empty. You smell it?”
Dominic’s eyes narrowed. “Blood.”
“Two days, maybe three.”
They moved in together, weapons drawn. Dominic’s knife gleamed once in the dim light, Julian’s thin sword tapping against his shoulder.
The place felt wrong. It was too still. To empty. There should have been the scent of decay, signs of scavengers, but everything had been scrubbed away.
Dominic crouched beside a fire pit near the center. “Burned to the ground,” he muttered, sifting ash between his fingers. “Bones in here. Animal or human, I can’t tell.”
Julian’s eyes flicked to the remains. “They burned what they ate. More cautious than they normally act.”
