He’s focused on something—or someone—over her shoulder. The harmonious warbling of the rainforest morphs into organized disarray, as if a primitive maestro has thrown conducting to the wind and let Mother Nature take over. Birds trill a warning as the breeze rustles the plant life. Wings flutter overhead. A crescendo of stimulation changes tempo, the insects seemingly performing a sonata as the rhythm shifts yet again.“What—who is it?” Summer asks in a strained whisper. His gaze lands on her, his brows furrowing. “The Forsaken.

Burning Falls