The helicopter's skids hit the packed snow with a jarring thud that vibrated through the bucket seats and rattled Andrea's teeth. As the roar of the rotors began to cycle down into a high-pitched whine, the silence of the hidden valley rushed in to fill the void—a heavy, oppressive quiet that felt more like a bated breath.
Viktor unbuckled his harness, the movement fluid and predatory even in the cramped cabin. He didn't look at the pilot; he looked at Andrea. His eyes were still tinged with that lingering gold, a slow-fading heat from their confrontation during the ascent.
"Stay close," he commanded, his voice dropping below the whine of the engines. "Do not look them in the eye. To a shifter, a direct stare from a human is either an invitation or a challenge. You are not equipped for either."
