Chapter 18 · The Dead Guy Talks

The body moved.

I froze mid-step. Behind me Cain's hand locked onto my wrist so fast I felt the bones shift.

"Don't."

But I already saw it. Past the scorched banners and the mud and the dried blood, the guy we'd written off two minutes ago lifted his head. Just an inch. His mouth opened and no sound came out but his fingers scraped the dirt.

"That's Ronan," I said.

Cain's grip tightened. "He's bait."

"He's alive."

"For now." His voice dropped to that Alpha tone that made my spine want to bend. "We keep moving."

I yanked my arm free and turned on him. His back was a mess of burns from the moon-salt, the edges still smoking, but his face didn't show it. He just stared me down like I was the problem.

"He was there," I said. "The night they set me up. He saw who did it."

"Or he's the one who did it."

"Then we ask him."

Cain stepped in close enough that I had to tilt my head back. "You go near him and every hunter in a ten-mile radius knows we're here. They'll have his scent rigged. This is what they do.