“No, but it’s the principle of the thing! I don’t know how to handle a man who doesn’t want me.”

“Maybe you should set your sights on the mercenary instead.”

She retrieves her pillow from where it landed beside me. “I would never do that. He’s yours, Ziva.”

“He’s not mine.”

“Still, I’m not pursuing him.”

“That’s your choice.”

“Yes, it is, and I’ve already made it.”

A howl rips through the camp, and another howl answers it. We’ve heard a few coyote yips at night along the trip, but these are much different, much closer.

Much more dangerous.

Temra shoots to her feet and pulls back one of the tent flaps.

I can see that the fire has died, but Kellyn is up and alert, his sword in his hands.

“Stay in your tents!” he calls out.

Temra dashes outside.

“What are you doing?” I shriek after her.

I’ve no choice but to follow.

Reya is frantic; I can hear her hooves pounding against the ground as she strains against her rope. She neighs in distress.

Temra goes to her, and I’m right on her heels. I snag the rope and pet the space between her eyes, muttering soothing sounds. I expect Temra to stroke her back. Perhaps jump on so we can ride away. Instead, she goes for the weapons bundle.

She frees Midnight from its sheath, the shortsword just as black as the night sky.

The howls grow louder, and now I can hear rustling in the foliage.

A spark appears, followed by blinding light. Kellyn has relit the fire. I watch in confusion as he rips off his shirt, ties it tightly around one of the large branches stacked beside the camp for cooking tomorrow’s breakfast, pours a hefty helping of oil from the jug onto his shirt, and thrusts it into the flames.

“Wh-what’s going on out there?” This from Petrik’s tent.

Kellyn pulls back the makeshift torch and spins around just in time to face a wolf launching itself out of the trees.

I scream—I can’t help it. I’ve never been attacked by anything before, and watching Kellyn fight off a drooling beast is terrifying.

It lands just short of his feet, and Kellyn swipes at it with the torch before slamming the point of his longsword into the wolf’s back.

“Stay in your tent, Petrik!” Temra shrieks as more wolves pour out from the trees. They nip at Reya’s shins, and she goes up on her back legs, sending me careening to the ground. Temra puts herself between the three wolves and the horse, slashing at the beasts with Midnight.

One wolf leaps at her, and I force myself not to shut my eyes as I watch her shove the shortsword right through its gaping maw. The tip splits through the back of the beast’s head, and Temra loses her sword as it falls to the ground.

“Here!” Kellyn yells, and he throws the torch at her. She catches it effortlessly and spins to swipe at the next wolf. Meanwhile, the mercenary wields his longsword in two hands, spearing wolves left and right with it.