Rain hammered the forest as Elise stumbled along the ravine, her flashlight beam quivering. Then she saw it—two sets of prints pressed in mud: one small, zigzagging in panic, the other wide, steady. They were side by side. Her throat tightened. It was Shadow and the boy.
The cry came suddenly, thin and frightened—Theo. Elise’s heart nearly broke. She slid down the embankment, mud tearing at her palms. And there he was: the boy huddled on a ledge, ankle twisted, water surging below. Standing guard before him, black as night itself, was Shadow.
For a breathless moment, Elise froze, caught between awe and terror. The panther’s golden eyes locked on her, unreadable, tail flicking with tension. Theo whimpered softly behind him, clutching a torn scarf. The storm raged around them, but the true storm was here—between mothering instinct, wild loyalty, and human fear.