Charles left the council room in a blur of adrenaline and dread. The Alpha’s permission had been granted, but the warning that came with it, “Don’t let her talk you into doing something stupid,” rang in his ears like a command carved into bone.
He knew the risk. Whitney was human, bright, reckless, endlessly curious, and, worst of all, she was the Luna’s closest friend. That alone made her a walking complication, a magnet for scrutiny. Every step he took toward her was a step into dangerous territory. Still, he couldn’t stop.
Following the security logs, Charles made his way down the polished hall of the East Wing. His heartbeat thundered in his chest, each pulse syncing with the pull of her scent. The closer he got, the stronger it became, fresh and wild, like rain hitting warm stone,
