Serena’s POV
The air inside Moon’s Fang pack house was thick, heavy with the familiar scent of old wood, fireplace smoke, and the beeswax omegas used to polish the furniture until it gleamed under the moonlight. It was a smell that had always comforted me, a reminder of my place within this hierarchy. But that night, as I crossed the threshold of the main hall, the scent felt oppressive, as if the very walls knew my secrets and judged me.
I leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed tightly to hide the slight tremor in my hands. It wasn’t fear, I told myself. It was leftover adrenaline, the echo of the van tumbling down the ravine, the roar of the wind, and the final crunch of metal against rock.
Nellie was dead.
My plan had been flawless: the isolated location, the rope cutting her wr
