The forest was drenched in silence, the shadows thick and endless under the moonless sky. Trees stood tall and unmoving, like sentinels watching what was about to unfold. But Liam wasn't focused on what he could see—he had stopped relying on his eyes minutes ago.
His ears were doing all the work now.
Every snapped twig, every shift in the grass, every shallow breath carried clearly to him. He counted five.
Five hearts beating with adrenaline.
Five men—creeping in the dark—thinking they were hunters.
They weren't.
Liam's lips curled into a slow, feral grin.
They were prey.
A sharp wind blew through the trees, rustling the branches high above. And with that wind—he vanished.
The five mercenaries jolted at once. One blinked, another adjusted his goggles. Their target had been standing ten meters ahead just seconds ago.
Now he was gone.
"What the hell?" one whispered.
