"I had tae wait fer the patrol tae pass." Enya stopped a few paces away, suddenly aware of how alone they were. How far from the castle. "I shouldnae be out so soon. I've barely been here a day."
"Long enough tae observe, I hope." Finley pushed off the tree, his expression intent. "What have ye learned?"
What had she learned?
That Harald's eyes were grey like winter sky. That he defended her without hesitation. That his people respected rather than feared him. That nothing about him matched the monster Finley had described.
"Nae much yet," Enya said carefully. "The castle's well-defended. He has patrols runnin' day and night."
"I ken all that already." Finley's impatience was sharp. "I need details, Enya. Troop numbers. Defensive weaknesses. His plans fer expansion."
"I've been here one day, Finley. I dinnae have the answers tae that."
He stepped closer. "This is important. More important than whatever misplaced sympathy ye're feelin' fer the Hawk."
"I'm nae feelin' sympathy."
"Arenae ye?" Finley's eyes narrowed. "Because ye look like ye're havin' doubts. And I need ye focused, Enya. I need ye tae remember who killed Faither. I need ye tae remember what these Norse bastards are capable of."
Guilt twisted in Enya's stomach. Her father's death had shaped everything—her brother's hatred, the distance that had grown between them. How could she forget?
"I remember," she said quietly. "But Finley, what if ye're wrong? What if Harald isnae plannin' anythin' against us? What if the Pact is exactly what it seems, an attempt at peace?"
"Then, as I already told ye, ye'll have naethin' tae report, and we'll all be pleasantly surprised." Finley's voice was hard. "But I'm nae wrong, Enya. And the sooner ye accept that, the easier this will be."
"Easier fer who?"
"Fer both of us. Fer our clan." Finley's expression softened slightly. "I ken this is difficult. I ken ye didnae want this. But ye're daein' the right thing, sister. Ye're protectin' our people."
Was she? Or was she just helping Finley chase ghosts while lying to a man who'd shown her more kindness in a day than her own brother had in years?
"I need tae go," Enya said abruptly. "If I'm gone too long, someone will notice."
"Next week," Finley cut her off. "Same place, same time. And Enya? Have somethin' useful tae tell me. I'm countin' on ye."
The weight of his expectation settled on her shoulders like stones. Enya nodded, not trusting her voice, and turned to go.
She was halfway back to the castle when she realized she was being followed.
The sound was subtle, a rustle of movement that didn't match the wind, the snap of a twig that came from too close behind. Enya's heart kicked into a higher rhythm as she quickened her pace.
Probably just a deer. Or a bird. Nothing to worry about.
The growl that rumbled through the trees told her otherwise.
Enya spun around and her blood turned to ice.
The wolf was huge—easily the size of a small pony, with grey-brown fur and eyes that gleamed with predatory intelligence. It stood twenty paces behind her, head low, shoulders bunched.
Watching.
Enya's mind went blank with terror.
She knew the rules—don't run, don't show fear, make yourself big—but her body wasn't listening. Her legs were alreadymoving, carrying her backward, and the wolf's lips pulled back from teeth that looked designed for tearing flesh.
"Stay back," she whispered. "Please, just?—"
The wolf lunged.
