The night was quiet except for the crackling fire in the center of the camp. Cinder sat across from Rylan, her eyes fixed on him as he poked the fire with a stick. The flickering light danced across his face, revealing a mixture of anger and sadness she hadn't seen before.
"I know there's more to your story, Rylan," Cinder said softly. "You don't strike me as someone who betrays for no reason."
Rylan's hand stilled, and he looked at her, his gray eyes clouded with memories. For a moment, he seemed to hesitate, but then he sighed deeply, his shoulders slumping as if a great weight had pressed down on him.
"You're right," he said at last. "It wasn't just power or ambition that drove me to work against the Lycans. It was her."
"Her?" Cinder leaned closer, her curiosity piqued.