Markus stood outside the apartment door and checked the street one more time. No ravens. No watchers. He'd found her three days ago, and the dark witches were still two steps behind. That gap was closing fast. He knocked twice and waited, breathing slow to keep his heart from hammering through his chest. The door opened six inches. A woman in her twenties looked at him through the gap, her eyes tired but sharp. Markus lifted his hand to show the silver ring on his finger, the black stone inside swirling with tiny stars. He'd used it to track her across three cities, following the pull of her untapped power like a beacon only he could see. "My name is Markus. You're in danger, and I can keep you safe." She studied his face for a long moment, then glanced at the ring. Something shifted in her expression—recognition, maybe, or fear. "No," she said. "I don't know you, and I don't need protection." The door closed. The lock clicked. Markus pressed his forehead against the wood and shut his eyes. The dark witches would be here tomorrow, maybe sooner. She had just refused the only help that stood between her and them.