This isn’t a question ofif.It’s a question ofwhen.
We move deeper into the tree line, following the signs. More markers. More subtle this time. Broken branches. Displaced stones. Small indicators that wouldn’t mean anything to a human eye—but to us? They’re a map. And we’ve been walking through it without realizing.
My frustration builds with every step. Not at the patrol. Not at the town. At myself.
I should’ve seen this sooner. Should’ve anticipated it. But I didn’t. Because I was focused on two fronts?—
The town. And Tessa. And now they’re not separate anymore. They’re the same battle.
The same vulnerability. The same target.
“Archer,” Eli calls again.
I turn. He’s holding something small between his fingers. A strip of fabric. Dark. Worn.
“Found it near the edge of the path,” he says.
I take it, bringing it closer. It smells faintly?—
Not human. Not fully shifter either. Something in between. Rogue.
“They’re getting closer,” I mutter.
“How close?” he asks.
I don’t answer right away. Because the truth?—
The truth isn’t something I want to say out loud. But I don’t get the chance. Because a sharp pulse cuts through the bond. Not fear. Not panic. But urgency. And it’s not from Tessa. It’s from the town. A messenger signal. I turn sharply, already moving.
“What is it?” Eli asks.
“Town alert,” I say. “Go back. Now.”
They don’t question it. We move fast, cutting through the forest with practiced speed. But even as we run?—
Something feels off. The timing. The distance. The way everything seems to be happening at once. Like we’re being pulled in two different directions. And I don’t like it. Not one bit.
By the time we hit the edge of town, the energy has shifted. People are moving. Quickly. Purposefully. Not panic. But close. Conrad meets me halfway down the main street, his expression tight.
“You felt it,” he says.
“Yes. What happened?”
“Someone’s been watching the bookstore again,” he says.
Everything in me goes still.
“When?”
“This morning. Early. Didn’t approach—just observed.”
My jaw clenches.
“How long?”
“Long enough,” he replies.
That’s all I need to hear.
