For the sake of her newly reconstructed face, Hayley forced her wolf into submission.
Her claws—her rage—everything inside her howled to be released, but she had no choice but to stay still. The pain from the surgery pulsed through her like iron hooks under her skin, and every heartbeat felt like it was tearing her apart from the inside. She clenched the sheets beneath her so tightly her knuckles turned pale, swallowing every scream that tried to rise.
Her wolf paced violently inside her mind, snapping and growling at the image of Anastasia and Elliot together.
But she could not move.
Not yet.
In Averna, the city lights shimmered like a living pack under the night sky as I sat across from Elliot in a lavish French restaurant tucked inside Presgrave territory. The atmosphere was warm, scented with fine wine and rare spices, but all of it faded beneath his presence. His Alpha aura filled the space effortlessly, making even silence feel intimate.
