“Think, Dahlia. Think!” I coach myself out loud. I wrack my brain, trying to remember what I had typed into my notes when I had returned.
Sure, Ben has money. Resources. A team. But he doesn’t know where the special cave is since the exact location isn’t in my notes. But I do. I know I can find it again.
The faint flicker of hope flares in my chest as a plan forms. If I can get to Eryon first—if I canwarnhim—maybe, just maybe, I can fix this. I just need to find my way back to the main cave system and then make my way back through the tunnels.
The hope quickly dwindles, chased by fear and doubt. I can only hope Eryon will listen to me after I’m the one responsible for bringing this threat to his doorstep. My heart breaks for him as the price of this plant just keeps getting steeper.
I have no choice but to try. I sprint back to my room, hands shaking as I power up my laptop. I need my files. Coordinates, notes—anything that can give me an edge. But when I try to log in, a message pops up.
Access Denied.
Frowning, I check my internet connection and then carefully retype my password and try again. Frustration at wasting precious time courses through me. I know this is the password, I just logged in the other day.
Access Denied.
Frantically I try to reset my password, but when I enter my university email, the same one I’ve used for years, I get another error.
Unknown user.
“Unfuckingbelievable," I complain to the empty room.
He had the university lock me out. The realization slams into me like a physical blow. Ben didn’t just take my research. He took my identity, my work, everything.
The sound of voices has me pressing my face to the window, trying to see what is going on without running into Ben and risking another confrontation. As I see his large, well-outfitted group heading out, I hold my breath, waiting to see what direction they head in.
To my relief, they don’t head towards the river, rather they turn south where the more populated end of town lies. A slow, burning rage rises in me, steady and all-consuming.
He thinks he’s won. He thinks I’ll just roll over and let him take what’s mine. What’s Eryon’s. He thinks I’m the same girl he used to manipulate. The same girl who let him take credit for her work.
But I’m not a girl, not anymore. I grab my pack and shove some extra supplies on top since I don’t have the time to repack it. I stand tall and throw it over my shoulders, yanking the straps tight. I am a woman on a mission.
Ben may have unlimited money andmanpower. I can’t help but sneer as I remember the condescending elitist tone he used. But I have something he will never understand.
I haveEryon.
And I’ll be damned if I let him take away the one thing in this world worth saving. The sudden threat has made me realize I love him, and I’m going to protect him. No matter the cost. He’s paid enough. It’s time for someone to show Eryon that he is worth saving, too.
Chapter Thirty
Eryon
Awareness pulls me from the solace of my meditation. The thick fur along my neck and spine bristles, every muscle coiling with instinct before I’ve even opened my eyes. My claws unsheathe, curling into the rock beneath me, my body already poised for a fight it has yet to see but knows is inevitable.
The wind shifts.
A small thing, imperceptible to most, but I feel it ripple through my bones like an omen. The storm is coming. Not just the snow, not just the bitter wind. Something else. Something worse.
The air changes, and I taste it first, sharp and acrid on my tongue. Something not of this world of stone and ice. The scent of men drifts toward me, foreign and wrong, wrinkling my nose. Synthetic fibers. Gun oil. The stale, metallic tang of greed. A pestilence seeping into the mountain’s sacred space.
I rise, unfolding to my full height, scanning the vast white expanse below. The mountains breathe, whispering their secrets through the drifting snow, passing messages through the rootsof the trees, calling to me through the aching bones of the earth itself.
The balance has shifted.
Intruders.
A deep growl rumbles low in my chest, rolling through the empty caverns behind me. They are here, in my domain. I move, silent and unseen. Nothing more than a ghost in the coming storm. I am a flicker in the long shadows of winter, the movement of a breeze in the trees. Invisible.
Before long, I come alongside the hunting party. For that is what they are. They do not move like men on a simple expedition. There is too much tension in their movements, too much nervous shifting of weight, hands adjusting gear, eyes flicking to the sides of the trail as if they expect the shadows to swallow them whole.
