Victoria
The town was everything a Mediterranean paradise should be: narrow cobblestone streets winding between buildings of pristine white, doorways painted vibrant blue to match the sea beyond. Bougainvillea spilled over walls in riots of pink and purple, and the scent of olive oil and fresh bread permeated the air.
I wandered without purpose, simply absorbing the sights and sounds. Locals called greetings to each other, children played in small courtyards, and elderly women dressed in black sat in shady spots, their gnarled hands working through strings of worry beads.
For the first time since leaving the Howlthorne Pack, I was completely alone—no Enzo controlling my movements, no Leo protecting me, just me and Ava experiencing the world on our terms.
*Do you feel it too?*
