The wind howled through the dark forest, rattling the ancient trees like a whispering choir of ghosts. The castle stood tall beyond the treetops, its stone walls bathed in silver moonlight. Alec crouched on a high branch, his keen eyes locked onto the balcony where Lady Evelyne stood.

He had watched her for years, unseen and unheard. A silent guardian.

She was the last of the Blackthorne bloodline, and she was in danger.

The creatures had drawn closer these past few nights. Their whispers echoed through the forest, their eyeless faces turned toward the castle. They longed for her.

And Alec would not let them have her.

With slow, practiced movements, he nocked an arrow and waited.

Because tonight, they would come again.

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