Nathan POV
This morning, around six, I saw Logan.
Not face to face. I'm not careless. I saw him the way hunters see prey—quiet, patient, hidden. He was patrolling the woods, moving through the trees like he belonged to them, like the ground itself whispered secrets to his feet.
My wolves had already reported to me earlier. They told me everything in trembling voices. Their mission to kill Logan had failed. Not because they were weak—no, they would never dare admit that to me—but because our uncle's wolves had stepped in and ruined the whole thing.
I almost laughed when I heard.
Not because it was funny.
Because it was predictable.
When fools make plans, fate usually joins the enemy's side.
Still, one detail caught my attention. One small, shining detail that made the whole failure worth hearing.
They told me who Logan had gone to meet.
The moment they described the man, I knew.
The teacher.
Interesting.
Very interesting.
