Unkown POV
The night was his favorite time to hunt. There was something about the dark that stirred his senses, the way the shadows wrapped around him like a cloak, hiding his every movement. He watched, patient and still, from the edge of the trees, barely a breath escaping his lips. His eyes remained locked on the townhouse across the street, the one with the faint light of a single bedroom window glowing softly in the distance.
Desmond had just left, the fool. The big man, exuding power and authority with every step, had exited his townhouse and walked next door, utterly oblivious. A slow, predatory smile twisted the silver wolf’s lips. Desmond had no idea. No idea that while he busied himself with meaningless errands, the true prize—the one that mattered above all else—remained insid
