Page 68 of Only the Hunter

The descent is steeper than it looks from above. The trees thicken, branches heavy with snow, the light dimming as we drop below the ridge line. The tracks are harder to follow here—broken by roots and rock outcrops—but they’re still identifiable.

Evie doesn’t speak.

The exercise could be pointless.

But it might not be.

We both focus on our foot placement, sidestepping the shallow depressions we’re following.

The forest opens abruptly onto a narrow ravine, steep-sided and choked with deadfall. The tracks end at the edge.

To the side, I spot a broken branch. A likely return path.

But why stop here?

Evie creeps forward, and I stop her with a touch of her coat. “Wait.”

I move forward alone, scanning the slope. Snow has filled the bottom unevenly, deeper where it drifted, shallower where wind scoured it away.

That’s where I see her.

Not hidden. Not buried.

Just left.

Lina Morozova lies twenty feet down, partially covered by snow, her body angled wrong—limbs too loose, face turned toward the sky. She’s wearing the same clothes from the photo Evie showed me days ago. No gloves. The winter coat from photos on but unbuttoned.

She didn’t leave on her own volition.

She was discarded.

I hear Evie’s breath catch behind me.

I don’t turn. “Stay there.”

“Gabe—”

“Stay there.”

I ease down the slope, boots finding purchase on exposed rock. The snow here is undisturbed except for the tracks above.

She didn’t walk down here. She was thrown. Or dropped.

Lina’s skin is pale, almost translucent. No visible trauma. No blood.

Which means the damage was done before she ended up here.

I crouch beside her, checking for signs of life I already know aren’t there. Her hands are curled loosely at her sides. No defensive wounds. No ligature marks.

She didn’t fight.

Because she couldn’t. Or because by the end, there was nothing left to fight with.

Evie’s voice comes from above, tight and controlled. “Is it her?”

I look up. She’s standing at the edge of the ravine, arms wrapped around herself, face pale but steady.

“Yes,” I say.