LOGINCold metal pressed against Kiera’s back.
Not a memory.
Real.
The shock of it stole what little breath she had. Her mind screamed even as her body locked, an old response snapping into place as efficiently as a trigger being pulled. Straps closed around her wrists and ankles with soft, mechanical clicks. Gentle. Precise. Almost respectful.
That made it worse.
The chamber was circular, carved deep into th
Ronan tore through the last of the smoke like a living storm. The chamber buckled under the force of his arrival—stone cracking, cables snapping loose, alarms screaming as the air pressure shifted. He landed in a crouch at the threshold, claws gouging deep grooves into the concrete, fur bristling with restrained violence. “Kiera!” Her name ripped from him—out loud this time—and the sound cut through the shriek of machinery like a blade. She was there. Strapped to the chair at the center of the room. Pinned. A device hovered over her skull, its needle buried far deeper than it had any right to be, glowing with hungry light. Her body arched against the restraints, muscles locked, eyes blown wide and burning white. Energy bled off her in waves sharp enough to sting his skin. Ronan felt it like pressure behind his ribs. The bond.
Cold metal pressed against Kiera’s back. Not a memory. Real. The shock of it stole what little breath she had. Her mind screamed even as her body locked, an old response snapping into place as efficiently as a trigger being pulled. Straps closed around her wrists and ankles with soft, mechanical clicks. Gentle. Precise. Almost respectful. That made it worse. The chamber was circular, carved deep into the island’s buried stone. Old concrete walls ringed with cables, cracked screens, and equipment that hummed like insects trapped in glass. Blue lights glowed faintly along the ceiling, pulsing in a slow, deliberate rhythm. A heartbeat that wasn’t hers. Dr. Hale stood at the center console, hands folded behind his back. His white coat was spotless despite the journey underground, as if filth had never learned how to cling to him. “Easy,” he said calmly. “Y
The darkness swallowed him whole. Ronan’s presence—his anchor, his certainty—vanished from Kiera’s mind in a single, brutal snap, like a cord cut under tension. “No—” The word tore through her silently, her body lurching toward the pit’s edge. Nothing answered. No heartbeat in her chest that wasn’t her own. No steady weight at her back. No fierce, burning presence braided through her thoughts. Just emptiness. Hale’s voice drifted across the quarry, smooth and satisfied. “You see,” he said. “This is why I planned ahead.” Kiera sank to her knees, dirt scraping her palms. The air above the pit shimmered faintly—some kind of dampening field, metallic and wrong. She could feel it pressing against her mind like a lid slammed shut. She reached again. Ronan. Nothing. The Hunt
The silence after the island’s roar was heavier than any sound it had made.Stone dust settled slowly through the chamber, drifting like ash. The darkness beneath the split floor receded, not vanishing, but withdrawing—as if it had decided to wait rather than strike. The ancient presence remained, coiled just beyond perception, no longer pushing.Watching.Kiera stood at the center of it all, breathing shallowly, trembling from the effort of standing her ground.Ronan had not released her.One arm was locked around her waist, anchoring her against him, his other hand splayed over the stone beside her as if he were bracing against the weight of the mountain itself. His heart thundered where her cheek pressed to his chest—fast, ferocious, real.Around them, the chamber’s lights flickered uncertainly.The bears did not move.They stood frozen as if the world had tilted and forgotten to settle back properly.Mira lowered herself first—not onto all fours, not in surrender, but onto one kne
The earth didn’t open like a wound. It parted. Stone slid aside with deliberate slowness, revealing a descending throat of darkness where the forest floor had been moments before. No heat poured out. No smoke. Just a breath of cold air so old it tasted like iron and rain long fallen. Kiera felt it before she saw it—the draw. Not a pull that dragged at her body, but a gravity that reached for the center of her mind and whispered here. Ronan shifted his stance, planting his feet as the ground trembled again, subtler now, as if the island were steadying itself. His arm remained around Kiera’s shoulders—not tight, not possessive—anchoring. The bond hummed between them, a low current held in check. “Everyone back,” he ordered, voice quiet but absolute. “In a line. Claws in. Eyes open.” The bears moved with disciplined silence, fanning out to secure the perime
Ronan did not sleep. He stood at the edge of the ravine long after Kiera disappeared into the trees, his senses stretched thin, tracking every sound, every shift of air. The forest knew he was angry. It pressed back against him—branches creaking, leaves whispering, the distant calls of night birds cutting sharp and warning through the dark. She was walking straight into a trap. And she knew it. That was what made it unbearable. Thorn approached quietly, his usual scowl carved deeper than ever. “She’s going to give herself up.” Ronan didn’t turn. “She thinks she is.” “She’s right about one thing,” Thorn said grimly. “Hale will kill a hostage to prove a point.” Ronan’s hands curled slowly into fists, claws extending without his permission. “He won’t get the chance.” Thorn hesitated. “You planning to stop her?” Ronan exhaled, s







