Evelynn POV
He stood there.
Alive.
My breath caught, chest locking around a thousand memories that should’ve stayed buried.
Varrick.
His name was a curse.
And yet here he was, leaning against a half-collapsed column like he hadn’t clawed his way out of the grave. His once-golden hair hung in filthy strands, his skin gray with soot and blood, and those eyes - those damned molten eyes - still burned with that same infuriating arrogance.
For a moment, I couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. My wolf was dead silent in my head. Then, quietly, she whispered:
“Kill him. Before he speaks.”
My fingers itched toward the dagger strapped to my thigh.
He saw the motion and smiled, slow and cracked.
“Ah, there she is. The lovely Luna. Come back to finish what you started?”
“I should,” I said, voi
