Celina’s POV
THE SILENCE after a storm is always the most terrifying.
I sat curled on the hospital bed, one hand protectively over my stomach, the other fisted in the thin sheets. The walls of the safehouse felt too close, the shadows too thick, as though even the air itself had become heavy with dread. Rhys lingered near the door, his presence steady but taut, the weight of everything unsaid hanging between us like a fragile thread.
Then it came—the sound I’d dreaded, the one that made my heart stutter painfully in my chest. Heavy, purposeful footsteps. The growl of a wolf barely restrained.
Lucien.
The door slammed against the wall as he entered, his aura so dark, so suffocating, the room itself seemed to recoil. His eyes weren’t just gold—they burned, molten and feral, his wolf cla
