Storm
The morning we were due to leave for France, I woke with a knot already forming in my stomach.
I tried to ignore it.
After everything that had happened with the rogues, I should have been relieved to be travelling with Doyle, the girls, Sean, Liam, and eight of Doyle’s most trusted warriors. Instead, the closer we got to leaving, the more uneasy I felt.
Maybe it was because I knew exactly where we were going.
France.
A pack meeting.
And there was always a chance someone from my past could be there.
By the time we reached Galway, I had managed to convince myself I was being ridiculous.
We arrived at the airport and made our way to Doyle’s private jet, an Embraer Lineage 1000E. The aircraft was more luxurious than anything I had ever travelled in before, and Doyle had his own
