The forest was dead quiet—too quiet for a territory full of wolves. Evelyn felt it instantly, the wrongness in the air, the way the shadows seemed to hang heavier than they should. Ronan walked beside her, silent, jaw tight, every step measured. But it wasn't wariness.
It was restraint.
Ever since the shadow mark had flared to life on her skin, Ronan hadn't touched her—not really. Not the way he used to. Not the way she could feel him wanting to.
And that scared her more than anything.
A twig snapped behind them. Ronan didn't even glance back. "They're following us."
"Your wolves?" she whispered.
"No." His voice dropped lower, rougher. "Yours."
Before she could ask what that meant, a figure stepped from the trees—ashen-skinned, eyes pitch-black, a faint smoky aura licking around his form like dark fire.
A shadow-born.
But he wasn't attacking.He was kneeling.
"For the Shadow Father's chosen," he said, head bowed. "For the one who woke the mark."
Evelyn's pulse stumbled. "I—I didn't wake anything."
The shadow-born lifted his head, expression unreadable. "You breathe, and the mark obeys."
Ronan moved in front of her so fast she barely saw him. "Stay away from her."
The creature didn't flinch. "Alpha of Moonfall. The girl is no longer just yours. She belongs to the shadow heir."
Evelyn felt the air shift. Felt Ronan's power surge. Felt something deep inside her respond—like a second heartbeat, ancient and waiting.
"No," she whispered, stepping around Ronan before she even thought about it. "I belong to no one."
The shadow-born smiled—a slow, eerie curve."That," he said, rising to his feet, "is exactly why the shadows chose you."
Behind her, Ronan's breath hitched.Not angry. Not afraid.
Desperate.
"Evelyn," he murmured, voice breaking in a way she'd never heard, "don't answer it. Don't let it in."
But the thing inside her was already stirring.Already listening.
Already choosing.