Chapter 12 The Hunter And The Crown

• The forest stirred with unease.
• The captured scout writhed under silver bindings, growling curses in a dialect most guards didn’t recognize. But what mattered wasn’t the language. It was the mark he had seen—burned into the girl’s flesh. The Crescent.
• He hadn’t made it far before Malcom Abel and the northern sentries closed in. But he had seen enough to know the legends were true—and now his silence was necessary.