Andrew stared at Isolde with pure hatred in his eyes. His fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles turned white. If he were still in his prime, he would have already torn her apart.
No... she's evolved.
He gritted his teeth. There was only one way left now.
"My son is being held captive by that Crow," he said, his voice low but firm. "Tell me how to save him."
Isolde smiled faintly, that infuriating curve of her lips giving away nothing.
"You know that swamp on the edge of the forest? The one near the abandoned village?"
"I heard a team of researchers went missing there not long ago. Never found. There were rumors—urban legends—"
"I don't want your stories," he cut in sharply. "Get to the point."
She chuckled softly. "So impatient. Like father, like son."
Sliding gracefully onto the edge of the window, she crossed one leg over the other.
"The Corvane are there. I can feel something... strange pulsing near that swamp."
