But a warrior was crouched across the stream, a long, wicked knife balanced on his knee. His black eyes devoured her, his face harsh beneath equally dark, shoulder-length hair as he said in a voice like granite, “Unless you want to be lunch, girl, I suggest you come with me.” A small, ancient voice whispered in her ear that she’d at last found her relentless hunter. And they’d now both become someone else’s prey.
