The fire is flickering now or maybe it's just my eyes that's dozing, I've been looking around the room for where the gem maybe, when suddenly I feel a tap on my sagging shoulders.
I jump, heart leaping into my throat like a startled rabbit. It's Jericho, his green eyes close and intense, that wolfish sharpness cutting through the dim light. Thorne is snoring lightly by the hearth now, the giant finally passed out after all the brew and reunion talk, his massive chest rising and falling like a bellows. The wooden house feels smaller than ever, heavy with smoke and secrets.
"Shh," Jericho whispers, his hand firm on my shoulder but gentle in a way that twists my fury even more. "We have to run. Now. Dad's a mad man of the village, Elara—Ravine. The worst kind. The spirits didn't send him a mate; the madness ate his mind years ago. I was only playing along back there, pretending the reunion was real. Had to, or he'd have gone full beast on both of us."
