Ellie POV
The packhouse looked exactly as I remembered it—tall windows catching the pale morning light, broad wooden doors that always seemed to groan when they opened, the faint scent of pine and smoke clinging to the old rugs.
My heart clenched as Nolan ushered me inside, the familiar rush of home mixed with the sharp edge of unease. I hadn’t been here in almost a year, and every shadow seemed to stretch a little longer, every whisper of sound magnified against my nerves.
There was danger here. Maybe there always had been, but I could feel it at the edges now in a way that I never had before.
I barely had a chance to breathe before her voice cut through the air like glass.
“Well, well.” Felicity’s tone dripped with venom as she came down the stairs, arms folded, her perfect blonde
