Kershov found the young lass sitting by herself, unique black-and-crimson pelt glimmering under the late sunlight. He dropped the rabbit he held in his mouth and let his lay limp before his paws. A thoughtful frown furrowed his scar-laced brow. Hmm. So this little urchin still hung around, after all this time . . .

“Miss Enkeli, what are you doing?” There wasn’t a trace of reproach in Kershov’s voice; the cold king was honestly curious to know how Abendrot’s best-kept secret had been spending her time. For all he knew, she’d been wandering around the freelands—or at least masking her scent so ingeniously that none of the soldiers had caught onto her existence yet. Had Kershov been a compassionate wolf, capable of true kindness and understanding, he might have felt a tiny sliver of sympathy for young Enkeli. As it was, Ker regarded her with the same inquisitiveness and vague surprise one might feel after finding a toy thought to be long gone. “Surely you aren’t just lazing around, waiting for the sun to fade.”

Flicking his tail pensively, the alabaster Alpha picked up his prey, walked calmly over to the ebony she-wolf, and dropped the prize next to her. It was more out of boredom than charity; Kershov wasn’t actually hungry, and the least he could do for the neglected child was offer a small meal. “I must say I admire your ability to remain hidden. You practice secrecy almost to a fault.” Ker paced until he was on the other side of Enkeli. There, he sat so that they were facing the same direction, not looking at one another yet clearly engaged in the same conversation. “I’m sure you want to know what you’re supposed to do, now that Firecrest is gone. Why didn’t you seek me out sooner to obtain a new objective? Or were you happy playing hide-and-seek around the territory?” He stared at her from the corner of one obsidian eye.