Clara POV
The air was sharp with the tang of my own fear, a bitter, metallic scent that clung to my throat, warring with the faint, savory aroma of venison simmering in the kitchen I’d abandoned. My heart pounded like a war drum, each beat a frantic pulse driving my feet faster, the polished wooden floors of the mansion blurring beneath me as I sprinted toward the Alpha and Luna’s quarters. The image of that black car seared into my mind—its sleek, predatory form rolling into the village square, the silver crescent moon emblem encircled by thorns glinting like a bared fang in the twilight.
Darius’s pack. The name alone was a shadow, a storm cloud threatening to drown the fragile harmony we’d fought tooth and claw to build. I clutched the wildflower Ben had tucked behind my ear, its purp
