Chloe’s pov
The mountain trail narrowed into a steep, treacherous ledge of wet granite, overlooking a black ravine shrouded in deep fog.
Ice-cold rain dripped continuously from the pine needles overhead, soaking through the shoulders of my wool cloak. Every step my mount took was slow and deliberate, its iron shoes clicking sharply against the slick stone.
Ahead of us, Ted rode lead.
His broad frame was hunched against the biting mountain wind, his short hunting blade resting unsheathed across his thigh. His golden eyes never stopped moving, scanning the dense thickets above and below our path. He navigated the wilderness with quiet, deadly efficiency, keeping us off the main dirt roads where Red Moon patrols or Fernando's rogue scouts could be lurking.
Behind me, Lisa rode bundled in
