Page 9 of The Panther's Price

Loneliness, maybe. That particular kind of hollow that didn’t come from being alone, but from beingempty.

She should’ve run. She didn’t.

He didn’t either.

They just… stared.

And in that stretch of silence, something unspoken passed between them—like matching scars held up to the light.

He vanished a breath later, swallowed by the mist, like the night exhaled and took him back. Evryn’s heart still thundered, but it wasn’t from fear.

Not entirely.

By the time she got back to the flat, Eamon was already pacing.

“Hell, Evryn!” he barked, nearly knocking over a chair. “Where thehellhave you—? What happened to your face?”

“Calm down,” she muttered, tossing her jacket over the railing. “I’m fine.”

“You’rebleeding.”

“Barely.”

Eamon crossed the room in two long strides and grabbed her chin gently but firmly, turning her head to inspect the gash on her lip. “Who?”

“Three shifter thugs. Cornered me off Market.”

His eyes darkened. “You killed ’em?”

“Two. One ran.”

He grunted, stepping back. “You shift?”

“What? No.”

“You use the Sight?”

“I didn’tmeanto.”

He gave her a long look, arms crossed, expression tight. “It’s happening more often, isn’t it?”

She didn’t answer, but her silence was a confession.

“I told you we need to go,” he said softly.

Evryn slumped onto the couch. It groaned under her weight, one leg shorter than the others. “There wassomeoneelse there.”

Eamon turned sharply. “Shifter?”

She shook her head slowly. “No. I don’t know. He was just…there.Watching.”

“And you didn’t run?”

“Ishould’ve.But…”

“But?”

She met his gaze. “I wasn’t afraid.”

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