MAILAH KEPT WALKING, her breath coming in angry puffs of white vapor in the freezing mountain air. Her phone's flashlight beam bobbed ahead of her, illuminating maybe ten feet of uneven forest path before darkness swallowed everything else.
She didn't look back.
Didn't want to see if Lucson was following. Didn't want to give him the satisfaction of knowing she cared whether he came after her or stayed in that ridiculous lodge with its suspicious fire and convenient provisions.
The silence behind her was absolute—no footsteps, no calls, no sounds of pursuit.
Fine. Perfect, actually.
He probably wasn't even planning to follow. Why would he? She was nothing to him. Just another human, fragile and temporary, useful only as an asset to manipulate people or leverage against Grayson.
Now that she'd served her purpose, what did it matter if she wandered off into the wilderness at three in the morning?
Maybe a human like her really was nothing to him.
