Some monsters are patient. Some hunters never stop. And some towns are built on secrets that only bleed out in the dark.
Marcus Hale left Ashford Creek eleven years ago with blood on his boots, grief in his chest, and a vow on his lips that he would never return. He had watched this forest take his father — watched something wearing the shape of a man tear through everything he loved — and he had walked away from the only life he had ever known as a hunter of things that should not exist.
