“You’re far from home, princess,” he said, voice low and smooth with a teasing edge. “What brings an elf like you to a place like this?”

Rynaria’s heart skipped. Her hand hovered near the dagger hidden beneath her cloak, though her fingers itched for magic instead—ancient, potent, but silent since her exile. She didn’t respond immediately.

She hadn’t expected to cross paths with one of them so soon.

One breath.

One misstep.

She took a measured step back, curling her fingers slightly—preparing to cast if she had to.

“You’ve been following me,” she said at last, her voice steady, though sharp. “What do you want?”

Kael stepped closer, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. His presence filled the space between them, vast and impossible to ignore. He was tall, broad-shouldered, confident in the kind of way that came from knowing exactly what he was capable of.

“I don’t want anything from you, princess,” he said, scanning her face. “But you’re in Thornridge territory now. That means you’re mine to notice.”

Rynaria’s breath caught.

Thornridge.

Of course. She should’ve guessed from the weight he carried—how the trees had gone still when he appeared.

He wasn’t just any wolf.

He was the alpha’s son.

And she had walked right into his domain.

She squared her shoulders and didn’t move. Every part of her screamed to run, but she stayed rooted. She wouldn’t let him see fear.

Not from her.

His eyes sparkled—not with malice, but with something worse. Curiosity.

“You’ve got fire,” he said softly. “But you’re not hiding it very well.”

“I didn’t come to stand out,” she said.

“You failed.”

Her jaw tightened.

He watched her a moment longer, then shook his head as if bemused by her stubbornness. “You might fool the humans, but the wolves? We feel it. The magic. The bloodline.”

He took one slow step forward.

She didn’t retreat.

“You wear your secrets like a second skin,” he murmured. “Anyone with teeth can smell them.”

Her breath hitched. “Then you know I don’t belong here.”

Kael gave a half-shrug. “Neither do I. But here we are.”

The words hung between them, more truth than challenge. There was something about the way he spoke—unapologetic but not cruel. And for a moment, Rynaria forgot who he was supposed to be.

“I should go,” she said quietly.

He didn’t stop her.

But his next words chased her down the steps and into the dark.

“They’ll come for you eventually. When they do, don’t expect the humans to take your side.”

She paused.

Didn’t turn.

Didn’t reply.

She just walked.

Back to the house. Back to the silence.

But the sound of his voice—low, unreadable—stayed with her long after the door shut.