Jessy’s pov :
The dim neon lights of the Howling Moon Bar flickered overhead, casting a reddish glow over the sticky wooden tables and the haze of cigarette smoke that clung to the air like a bad memory. It was a dive on the outskirts of Cheyenne, the kind of place where shifters like me could blend in without drawing pack attention—Silverfang or otherwise. I sat in a corner booth, nursing a whiskey neat, my blonde waves pulled back in a tight ponytail, designer jacket slung over the seat to hide the luxury that didn't belong here.
My alpha instincts were on edge, claws itching beneath my skin as I checked my phone for the umpteenth time. Jax was late. Typical rogue—unreliable, but useful. I'd hired him weeks ago, after digging into Naomi's background through some shady contacts. T
