Stranger’s POV
Through the rear exit of the restaurant, I escorted Claire outside.
The night was dark and chilly, cold wrapped around us immediately and the howling of werewolves could be heard in the distance. It was obvious some teenagers were camping and partying nearby. Crimson's pack street light blazed, brightening the area.
She walked beside me, her shoulders tensed and guarded.
Her steps were controlled, careful, as though she was constantly measuring the distance between us. Even without looking directly at her, I could feel it, the tension radiating from her skin, the quiet calculation in her breathing.
“I can wait for my ride,” she said at last, her weariness unmistakable. “There’s no need to trouble you.”
Trouble me? Why would she ever think she was troubling me?
I sto
