The cold morning air bit at Taryn's face as she stepped out of the cabin, dagger in hand. The forest was silent—unnervingly so. She scanned the clearing, her instincts on high alert. Something felt off.
"Lucien," she called softly over her shoulder, her voice barely above a whisper.
Before she could say more, a hand snaked around her throat, pulling her back. Another hand clamped down on her wrist, forcing her to drop her dagger with a muffled thud.
Her heart lurched. It's him. The bounty hunter's smug grin flashed in her mind, and her body tensed, bracing for the taunting drawl she had come to hate.
But no taunt came.
Instead, the voice in her ear was low and unfamiliar. "Not a sound."
