*****
The night air was thick with tension, the moon a pale slit overhead, casting silver onto the stone path that cut through Lunar Crest Academy. A blur darted past trees, dorms, and deserted corners of the campus, nothing more than a whisper of wind and motion.
Magnus Thorn.
The Director's face was grim, his eyes flashing crimson with growing frustration. He had been moving at full Lycan speed, retracing steps, chasing trails, searching. But there was no trail, not anymore.
Kieran's scent was gone.
Masked. Suppressed. Hidden.
The boy had done it deliberately.
Thorn skidded to a halt on the west side of the academy, nostrils flaring as he tried once more to pick up even the faintest thread of the Lycan Prince's trail. Nothing. He cursed under his breath, spinning in a new direction when....
Thud...
He collided sharply with another figure turning the corner.
Instinct kicked in. Thorn's hands shot out, gripping the figure by the waist to steady them before they could fall.
