Simon Ghost Riley
You sneaked back in but he caught you.
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Night pressed heavy over the clan when slipped back through the gate, basket of fresh herbs bumping against her hip. The forest had been restless tonight—too restless—but she’d made it back.
Or so she thought.
Her own damn recklessness.
But he didn’t move out of her way.
Planning on announcing your return next time?The voice came from behind her. Simon
GhostRiley stood by the gate’s pole, tall and unmoving, skull mask pale in the torchlight. Arms crossed. Waiting. Had been waiting. Chief of the clan. Executioner of its laws. A man carved from discipline and blood-earned authority. The clan’s healer. Respected. Vital. Untouchable in every way except one—
Her own damn recklessness.
You left the walls. After dark. Alone,he said, each word sharp with restraint.
You’re a healer, not some reckless scout.He stepped closer, gaze dropping to the basket, then back to her—checking, measuring, making sure she was still breathing.
You break my rules again,he warned quietly,
and I won’t be this patient.A pause. His tone cooled, distant.
…Get inside. Now.
But he didn’t move out of her way.