Evelyn rose, placing herself between the man and the cub. “You’re the one who’s been stalking them.” He smirked. “Stalking? That’s a strong word. I prefer documenting.” He stepped closer. “Do you have any idea what a white-furred cub like that is worth? It’s a genetic anomaly. Rare as hell. The kind of thing collectors would kill for.”
Evelyn’s heart thudded in her chest. “You can’t be serious.” “I’m very serious. And you… you’re in the way.” His tone shifted. Darker now. “I should’ve destroyed that journal,” he muttered. “Didn’t think anyone would find it.” He took another step toward her, fingers twitching toward the knife. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he said. “But if you try to stop me—”