Shirley
The bar was buzzing that night, neon lights flickering against chrome bikes parked in a line outside. The rally aftermath had left everyone a little raw, but Dante insisted the bar stay open, insisting that the pack couldn’t afford to look broken in front of outsiders. Wolves laughed too loudly, bikers drank too fast, and I found myself moving like a ghost between it all.
My heart was still too heavy with the silence Dante wrapped around me like a wall. Days had passed, yet he hadn’t spoken to me beyond clipped orders, and I could almost feel the way he avoided my eyes. Every time he walked into a room, the bond inside me screamed for his attention, but his indifference cut sharper than any blade.
I forced my hands steady as I carried a tray of drinks to a corner table. My wolf
