Aqua’s room looked like a storm had torn through it. Clothes, travel bottles, and folded maps were scattered across the bed as she tried to pack with trembling hands. Her mind kept replaying the morning—Kieran’s voice, his confession, the almost‑kiss that still burned on her lips.
She reached for her makeup bag, and something small and metallic slipped out, clinking softly against the hardwood floor.
Aqua froze.
The Lycan Rune.
The one Kieran had given her during their reckless, intoxicating week together—the week she tried so hard not to think about. The rune glowed faintly in the morning light, its carved edges warm against her palm when she picked it up.
Her breath caught.
She remembered the way he’d pressed it into her hand, murmuring, “I wanted to give you something back. I just
