The werewolves knew exactly what they were doing. To avoid detection, they had chosen the most treacherous route—the dense woods.
However, this strategy proved challenging for the vampires, who struggled to keep up.
Florian remained unconscious but was clearly just asleep since he occasionally winced and groaned.
Riona, on the other hand, was slowly recovering. She could feel the sunlight turning her skin into a crispy, burnt offering with every passing minute.
Her efforts to hide under the sparse shade of the trees were about as effective as using a piece of paper as an umbrella in a hurricane. The leaves rustled relentlessly as if mocking her desperate attempts at sun avoidance.
"Come here," Thorin called, spreading his coat like a human parasol.
In a perfect world, Riona would have told him where to shove that coat. But given that this was more of a "survival of the fittest" scenario, she had to swallow her pride.
