Page 22 of The Serpent and the Silver Wolf

She spun, scanning the space for any sign of where he might’ve gone.

It was Five-Day. Most of the village would already be tucked away in that secret gathering she wasn’t allowed to attend. Which meant, if she moved fast, she might catch him before anyone realized he was missing.

Her eyes landed on the peg by the door. Her cloak was gone.

At least the bastard had the sense to cover himself.

She pivoted toward the exit, pushing aside the flap and stepping into the evening chill. Above her, the narrow shaft of sky at the top of the crevasse burned silver-blue. Below, the lower levels of the villagestretched downward in tangled pathways and suspended platforms. Empty now—eerily so.

“Up,” she exhaled.

If he knew the village was locked away in the library—or temple, or whatever the hell they called it—he wouldn’t risk moving down where someone might catch him. No. He’d go up.

Toward escape.

Without me.

The thought landed hard, bitter behind her ribs. But she shoved it aside. Why would he wait for her? They were just trapped in the same place, not bound by anything more.

Jaw flexing, she took the ladder nearest the door, fingers wrapping around the worn rope rungs as she hauled herself upward.

If he was here, she’d find him.

And if he wasn’t…

She climbed faster.

Moving quickly, her eyes scanned for signs—a half-scuffed footprint in the dust, a broken sprig of underbrush where none should’ve been, the faintest whiff of resin and sweat clinging to a trail only she could follow.

“Slow.” She crouched beside a warped set of prints at the edge of a moss-covered ledge. “The injury’s still messing with him…”

But then the trail veered, split, and disappeared. She froze, nostrils flaring.

“Shit,” she hissed, doubling back the way she came.

It shouldn't have taken this much effort. Her sight alone could spot a dropped needle in twilight. Her nose could track a deer through rain.

He’s good, she thought, lips spreading into a grin.But I’m better.

Branches scraped her shoulders as she darted through the thinning trees above the highest tier of the village. The path narrowed again. Itwas only uneven stone ledges now, half-swallowed by overgrowth. Her heart beat faster.

There!

Kazuma stood just ahead, his back to her, framed in mountain shadow.

A boulder taller than both of them combined blocked the mouth of a narrow cave. Etched symbols pulsed across the stone face—some carved deep, others scratched shallow like they were added later, newer.

He didn’t turn, though he must have known she was close. He always knew.

Slowing, her spine straightened even as her boots remained near-silent over the loose rock.

“Took you long enough,” he said, continuing to face forward.

“As if provoking a giant snake wasn’t enough,” Aimee muttered. “You mind telling me what this latest attempt at suicide is all about?”

Kazuma scoffed, looking toward the mountain’s ridge where the last edge of sunlight bled out behind stone.

“They’ll be busy for at least another hour.” The hood slipped from his head, dark hair falling neatly down his back.