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Something within these lands was too beautiful. It unnerved Kade, the ancient darkness that once thrived here vibrating in the air like a façade, waiting to entrap its prey. He missed the Vadon Mountains. The proud trees, the songbirds, his ability to roam freely as a werewolf and not having to wake before anyone else in the town to shift and run.

As a werewolf should.

Evelyn walked ahead with her staff, her long hair tied together in a braid over her shoulder. Both of them had said little to each other. They’d dismounted Bleu half a mile back, inspecting the path leading to the lake closer up. Bleu grew agitated the closer they came to the water’s edge, ears flicked back as if he too sensed the other.

Kade was disgruntled. While getting ready that morning, he come across the letter he never sent to Eldrick. He debated if now was the time to spend the silvers and send it. Of course, it needed updating. There was indeed a vampyr in Callum—he’d seen it, fought it. Not to mention the possible connection to the witches’ creed. With that in mind, too, Kade recalled Evelyn’s muince, taunting him with its pearly pendant and the truth. Like the letter, it felt like the right time to present it to Evelyn.

Telling her was the right thing to do. What he needed to do.

There’s something I need to tell you. I’m no huntsman, but Kade Drengr.

Kade devised a speech in his mind and ran over the words. Emphasizing she could trust him, she did not need to fear him, that they had to warn everyone back home. Kade stood a breath away from spilling his secrets when his boots scuffed over the shore, knocking pebbles out of the way. The courage to come clean vanished, the task at hand taking precedence.

Slide marks cut through the sandy underlay of the lakeshore. Kade bent down, running his hand over mounds of rocks—it was as if boots and hands had made indents.

“Saige,” he said.

She joined him, looking over his shoulder. “Signs of a struggle?”

“Yes, and possibly where the vampyr might have killed her.”

But there were no droplets of blood, no iron scent in the air. The rain or lake might’ve washed away that evidence, but even so, Fiona had been drained. There wouldn’t have been much blood left behind, same as at Castle Connacht.

With Evelyn so close, Kade couldn’t use his wolf’s magic to detect what had happened. Moons, tapping into his werewolf powers would be such an asset. He ran his hand through his hair, frustration giving him a headache.

“Cyrus, look.” Evelyn pointed east, her brows furrowed and concern flashing across her face.

White-stone cliffs lined the right side of the lake’s hill. A cloak billowed on a jagged rock in the faint breeze, red, bright and vibrant compared to the setting.

“I’ll ride Bleu up to the peak and check it out,” he said. “You stay here and look for anything else.”

Evelyn observed him, frowning slightly. “Good plan.”

Kade mounted Bleu. He didn’t like leaving Evelyn behind in such a place, but he also needed to put space between them so he didn’t say something rash. Despite warring reasons, he wasn’t ready to tell her the truth yet.

Bleu galloped up the sodden path that shot straight up to the cliffs. The air grew thicker, the low drifting clouds kissing Kade’s tunic and leathers with moisture. The path disappeared behind the bend of an overlook, obscuring the cloak.

Kade paused, the view stealing his breath. The lake appeared as still as glass, the reflection of the clouds as perfect as if it were a mirror.

Flapping fabric snapped in the wind. Kade dismounted Bleu and descended a hidden path tucked between rocks and sprouts of buttercups. The cloak came into view again, twirling its red fabric in the air as if to say, you found me.

The path dropped to an overhanging rock with an inlet underneath, and the moment Kade’s boots landed, his wolf sensed the iron stench of blood. Smears of handprints and footprints of dried crimson stained the sand.

His wolf detected the blood belonged to a woman, and the other scent laced in the air was of death and a cloying sweetness.

Like licorice. Not the scent of a vampyr.

Kade closed his eyes, took a mighty breath, and channeled his magic. His wolf leaped with elation and sprang with eagerness at being used. He knelt down and planted his hand in the sand, connecting his magic to the scene. It awakened at the touch of the blood, the darkness intertwined with death, and after a beat, Kade’s magic clicked into place. His surroundings blurred with colors as time lapsed.

Impossible to tell the genders or who was who. Two images appeared and sharpened, one smaller than the other. The smaller one shimmered red, and it billowed like the cloak snagged off the cliff. The other image slinked through the scene, black as night.

The two images pushed and shoved, fighting one another. Spurts of black fell from the red figure like flint falling from fire. The images faced off with one another until the red figure fell to the ground.

Pain, fear, and hunger lashed at Kade’s magic, deeply woven into the memory. He held on to his magic, digging his fingers deeper into the sand. The images wavered with the wind, returning as the red figure fell backward off the cliff, and then the image snapped from existence.

Kade gasped back into reality. Sweat prickled at his temples, his heart thudding in his chest. The wind continued to blow his hair back as he studied the spot where he assumed Fiona had jumped. He peered over the edge. The drop was steep but manageable. No rocks broke the surface of the lake below. Perhaps Fiona had tried to swim to shore, only to find the vampyr waiting there to intercept her?

Kade surveyed the scene again. Her relationship with the vampyr had been much different than that of McKenna’s. No lover. No picnic. Had she been lured here? If so, why?