Amara’s POV
The salt-heavy wind of Cape Haven usually felt like a lullaby, but tonight, it sounded like a funeral dirge.
I didn't turn on the lights in the shop. I didn't need them. I knew every inch of this cramped, thread-scented space by heart. My hands, swollen and trembling, moved with frantic precision. I shoved the few pieces of clothing I owned into a canvas duffel bag, my breath coming in short, jagged hitches that hurt my ribs.
Miller knew. The thought looped in my head like a broken record. Miller had seen my face. He had seen the life I was carrying. And if the Alpha’s lead security guard knew, then the wall I had built around my life was already crumbling into the sea.
I paused, leaning my weight against the cutting table as a sharp, pulling sensation radiated through my l
