Salome’s POV
“Are you hurt, Alpha Jeremiah?” Clementine asked, her voice cracking as she dropped to the floor beside him.
The room smelled like a gas station. My lungs burned with every breath, the scent of fuel clinging to the back of my throat. Jeremiah didn’t look at her right away. He kept his eyes on me, checking for injuries, before he finally shifted his focus to the police officer standing over him.
“I am fine,” Jeremiah said. He sat up slowly, wincing as he moved. “It is just a scratch on my shoulder.”
A third officer stepped over a puddle of gasoline on the hardwood. He looked at the chaos, then at us. The flashing lights from the cruisers outside cut through the dim room, painting the walls in rhythmic strobes of red and blue.
“We need to get statements from both of you,” t
