The green eyes ringed the tree, burning through the dark. Low snarls scraped against the cold air.

Chloe pressed her chest to the trunk, her pulse hammering. Fear would only sharpen their hunger. Stay still. Breathe. Think.

She ripped another strip of fabric from her tattered dress and tied it to a thin branch.

She fumbled in her pockets. Empty. The lighter must have fallen out when she tumbled down the slope.

No fire. Her most effective deterrent was gone.

She didn't give up. Her mind raced, searching for another way.

She broke off a dead branch and hurled it with all her might toward the largest wolf.

It struck the alpha squarely on the nose. The wolf yelped in pain and took a step back, letting out a furious snarl. But the other wolves paused their advance.

Then she caught it—the alpha's left hind leg carried a faint hitch, a near-invisible pause with every stride. Injured.

Chloe's breath steadied. There you are.

She picked up a small stone and threw it hard, aiming at the alpha's head. "Come on, then," she whispered. "Afraid of a girl in a tree?"

Two miles away, on a ridge overlooking the valley, a man in black tactical gear lowered his night-vision scope.

His name was Desmond Montgomery. He was the sole heir to the Montgomery empire—a name that commanded boardrooms in Washington and silent respect in the criminal underworld alike. This mountain range, along with half a dozen others across three states, was his private domain, watched over by a security network that could track a field mouse in a snowstorm.

No intruder had ever made it past the outer perimeter. Until tonight.

He raised the scope again, watching the girl cling to the pine trunk. She wasn't screaming. She wasn't begging.

Interesting.

The corner of his mouth tugged upward. This one fought back.

Desmond watched her hurl another stone at the alpha, deliberately drawing its attention away from the pack. She'd read the dynamics and found the weak link.

She's buying time. And she knows exactly how.

A slow, rare interest stirred behind his cold assessment.

Down below, Chloe's defiance had enraged the pack. They began circling the tree, looking for an opening.

One wolf leaped, its sharp claws gouging deep marks in the bark, less than a foot from Chloe's dangling feet.

A jolt of fear shot through her. She scrambled higher, her energy draining with every move.

She had to find a way out before she froze or her strength gave out completely.

A roar cut through the night—low, resonant, and utterly unlike a wolf's cry. It rolled down from the ridge, heavy as thunder.

The pack froze mid-step. Ears flattened. Tails tucked. They whimpered like beaten dogs.

Chloe's grip tightened on the branch. What the hell was that? It sounded like a big cat, but no mountain lion carried that kind of authority.

The wolves hesitated for a few seconds before retreating, melting back into the dark forest.

The immediate danger was gone. The tension left Chloe's body in a rush, and she nearly slipped from her branch.

A huge, pale shape materialized under the tree. Spotted white fur. Ice-blue eyes fixed on her.

It moved without sound, circling once before sitting back on its haunches with a predator's patience.

A snow leopard. In a Montana pine forest.

Chloe's breath caught. That's not possible. But the animal was real, its stare pressing into her like a physical weight.

She remained frozen on her branch, not daring to move, locked in a standoff with the magnificent beast.

The leopard seemed more curious than hostile. It tilted its head, let out a lazy yawn, and then lay down at the base of the tree, as if it were standing guard.

Chloe was cold, hungry, and at the absolute limit of her endurance. And this animal was blocking her only escape route.

Her arms gave out. The world tilted, blurred, and slipped sideways. Her fingers uncurled, and the branch rushed away from her body.

She hit the ground with a jarring thud, but the pain felt distant, muffled.

Through the narrowing tunnel of her vision, a tall figure emerged from the trees—broad-shouldered, silent as the snow leopard. He was walking toward her.