RILEY'S POV
I couldn't stay in that tent anymore. The walls were closing in. My arm stung from the scratches, dried blood flaking under my nails, but the pain wasn't enough to drown out the roar in my head. Selene knew more. She had to. And if Kael wouldn't tell me the truth, I'd carve it out of her myself.
The camp was asleep, or close to it. Fires banked low, wolves snoring in their tents, the night air sharp with pine and frost. I slipped out, hood up, knife clutched in my sweaty palm. The blade was small — the one I'd stolen during my escape — but it felt heavy, like it knew what I was about to do.
Sloppy. This is so sloppy. What the hell am I even doing? Sneaking around like some amateur thief who forgot her getaway car. If anyone sees me...
