The forest opened into a wide clearing, the sudden expanse of space catching Caleb off guard. He stopped walking, his flashlight beam darting across the ground. The faint outlines of old stone ruins loomed in the distance—smaller than the ones they’d left behind, but just as weathered.


    “We should keep moving,” Evelyn said, her voice quiet but urgent.


    Caleb frowned, glancing around. “What’s the rush? This place looks deserted.”


    Evelyn didn’t respond right away. She stepped closer to the edge of the clearing, her gaze sweeping over the ruins. Her posture was tense, her hand hovering near her knife.


    “It’s too quiet,” she said finally.


    “You always think we’re being followed,” Caleb muttered, but he tightened his grip on his gun anyway.


    Evelyn didn’t answer. She moved toward the ruins, her steps light and deliberate. Caleb followed reluctantly, his nerves on edge.


    The ruins were more intact than he’d expected, the remnants of old stone walls rising out of the earth like broken teeth. Caleb shone his flashlight over the carvings etched into the stone—more symbols, similar to the ones they’d seen before.


    “What do these mean?” Caleb asked, running his fingers over one of the carvings.


    “They’re warnings,” Evelyn said without looking at him.If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    “Warnings for what?”


    “Not now,” Evelyn replied, her tone sharp.


    Caleb sighed, stepping away from the wall. “You’ve got to work on your communication skills, you know that?”


    Evelyn turned to him, her green eyes narrowing. “And you need to learn when to stop talking.”


    Before Caleb could respond, a faint sound broke the silence—a deliberate, rhythmic crunch of boots on dirt. Caleb froze, his flashlight snapping toward the noise.


    “Did you hear that?” Caleb whispered.


    Evelyn nodded, her posture tensing. “We’re not alone.”


    A shadow moved at the edge of the clearing, slipping between the trees with unsettling ease. Caleb’s heart pounded as he aimed his gun, his finger hovering over the trigger.


    “Show yourself!” he called, his voice steadier than he felt.


    For a moment, there was no response. Then, slowly, a figure stepped out of the shadows.


    The man was tall, his frame lean but powerful, dressed in a dark jacket that looked tailored for utility. He had a sharp, angular face, his eyes glinting with a cold intelligence that made Caleb’s stomach tighten. In one hand, he held a sleek black pistol, the weapon hanging loosely at his side like it was an extension of his arm.


    “Well, well,” the man said, his voice smooth but laced with danger. “If it isn’t the infamous Evelyn Devereaux.”


    Evelyn’s expression didn’t change, but Caleb could feel the shift in her posture. Her hand tightened around the hilt of her knife, and she stepped slightly in front of him, like a shield.


    “Carter,” Evelyn said, her tone flat.


    Carter smirked, though the expression didn’t reach his eyes. “I was wondering when we’d cross paths again. You’ve been busy, haven’t you?”


    Evelyn didn’t respond.


    Carter’s gaze flicked to Caleb, and his smirk widened. “And you’ve made a friend. How touching.”


    “Who the hell are you?” Caleb asked, his gun still trained on Carter.


    Carter raised an eyebrow, his posture relaxed despite the weapon aimed at him. “She hasn’t told you about me? I’m hurt.”


    “Back off,” Evelyn said, her voice cold.


    Carter tilted his head slightly, studying her. “Or what? You’ll run, like you always do?”