Logan
I followed the trail deeper into the trees, reading the signs without slowing. Broken twigs, crushed leaves, clear footprints—more than one set. They had rushed her. At some point they had carried her too; I could smell it in the disturbed earth and on the bark of the trees.
My chest tightened.
The path twisted through dense undergrowth until a small cottage emerged between the trunks, old and gray, tucked away like it was trying to disappear into the forest.
My heart sank.
That's where they took her.
Jack stirred uneasily inside me, warning thick in his voice. It smells like danger.
I felt it too. The air was wrong, heavy and cold, charged with something dark. As I stepped closer, Bella's scent wrapped around me from every direction—on the door, on the walls, on the ground beneath my boots—but there was nothing else. No emotional echo. No fear, no anger, no distress.
Just silence.
That frightened me more than anything.
Jack went still for a moment.
