Elara woke up with Kaelen being her only thought, the lingering echo of Kaelen's words swirling in her mind. He wanted her. Not as a conquest, not as a pity project, but truly, genuinely her. It felt like a dream, a dangerous, alluring dream she desperately wanted to believe. Damon's sneers and callous indifference had chipped away at her spirit for so long, Kaelen's open admiration felt like sunlight after a long winter.
Determined to clear her head, Elara decided on a walk. The pack house, usually bustling with activity, was unusually quiet this morning. That was probably because it was barely past dawn. As she rounded a corner, a sight stopped her dead in her tracks. A convoy of sleek, black cars, the kind she only saw in magazines, was pulling up to the front of the pack house. Their
