Dante
The roar of engines from the garage below had become my only lullaby, and the scent of burnt rubber and pine oil clung to the air like regret. Talon had stopped asking questions. Even he knew when to give me space—and that said a hell of a lot, considering he was the nosiest bastard I knew.
But I didn’t want space. I wanted answers.
Shirley’s voice still echoed in my head from the night before. The way she screamed at both of us—me and that snake Asher—cut deeper than any silver blade ever could. It wasn’t just fury. It was heartbreak. And it was aimed at me.
She didn’t know the truth. Not all of it. Hell, even if she did, would it matter?
I hadn’t told her everything. Not about her mark, not about what I’d discovered from Dr. Myles, and definitely not about what my wolf had st
