His accent isn’t quite European, isn’t quite anything I recognize. It sits wrong on my ear—vowels stretched, consonants clipped in unusual places. Not foreign, exactly.Other.
“The pattern indicates intent,” he continues, tapping specific points on the map. “Each breach occurs where ley lines intersect with—“
“With what?”
His eyes lock onto mine. No dominance challenge, no submission. Just cold assessment.
“With places she’s been,” he says.
I don’t need to ask whosheis.
Rafe stands, moves around the table with the deliberate grace of someone indifferent to gravity. His boots make no sound on the wooden floor. None at all.
“Your guest is more valuable than you realize,” he says. “Her tracking abilities are unique.”
“You’re saying he created her for this?”
“He didn’t make her. He made sure she’d be his.”
The room goes still. I can hear heartbeats. Not just mine—everyone’s.
My control slips, just for a second. “What the fuck does that mean?”
“It means she’s the key,” he says, placing his finger on the center of the map. “And that’s why he’s here. She wasn’t following him. He was herding her. Right to this spot.”
Lyanna steps forward. “The pattern doesn’t just track Nova. It creates containment. Each breach point establishes barriers.”
“What kind of barriers?” I ask.
“The kind that only works if the target doesn’t know they exist,” Rafe explains. His stillness is unnatural.
“You’re not from here,” I say.
He studies me for a moment, his expression unchanging. “No, I’m not.”
“Then where?”
“A place where we’ve seen this before,” he replies. “A place where Faelan tried this same ritual. It didn’t end well.”
The implications hang in the air. This isn’t just about territorial incursion. It’s about something bigger. Something worse.
“And what’s your stake in this?” I demand. “Why do you care what happens to Ash Hollow? To Nova?”
Rafe doesn’t answer immediately. His gaze shifts past my shoulder, toward the door.
I turn. Nova stands in the doorway, fingers still on the handle.
Chapter 13
Nova
Dane turns to face me. The room goes still.
I don’t move from the doorway. My fingers stay on the handle, body angled for retreat even though I have no intention of running.
“How much did you hear?” Rafe asks. No alarm in his voice. Just assessment.
“Enough.” I step inside, letting the door click shut behind me. “He didn’t make me. He made sure I’d be his. That about cover it?”
