Caelion's eyes darkened the moment he saw her.
Samara lay motionless on the forest floor, her dark hair fanned out across dead leaves like spilled ink. Blood pooled beneath her, soaking into the earth as though the ground itself was claiming her. As though it recognized her as something worth taking.
For a fraction of a second, something shifted in him.
Not panic. Not hesitation. Something far colder.
He had felt the disturbance from a distance. A thread that belonged to him, snapped by clumsy hands that had no idea what they had just invited into their midst.
The bond between them was not something that could be explained to mortals. It was older than kingdoms. Deeper than blood. And these fools had tried to sever it with a blade.
He had not hesitated. He had come immediately, tearing through the forest with a speed that blurred the trees into shadows.
