The wind shifted.
Adrian stopped. His head turned sharply toward the darkness behind them. His body went rigid, his hand reaching out as if to push Samara behind him.
"What is it?" she asked.
He did not answer. His eyes were wide. His face was pale.
"Adrian?"
"We need to run," he said.
His voice was different. Strained. Afraid.
"Why? What did you—"
Then she felt it.
Not the bond. The ring was still masking that. But something else. A presence. Heavy and cold and absolutely certain.
The temperature dropped. Frost spread across the leaves at her feet.
He was here.
Caelion stepped out of the shadows at the edge of the clearing. His silver eyes glowed in the darkness. His white hair was loose around his shoulders. Frost clung to his coat. His breath misted in the air.
He did not move toward her. He simply stood there, watching.
Adrian materialized fully in front of Samara, his body solid, his arms spread wide to shield her.
"You will not touch her," Adrian said.
