Estelle's POV
My stomach dropped. "What?"
"He's gone mad—completely mad! Don't go to the airport yet. Find somewhere to hide!" Amelia said urgently.
I pressed my fingers to my temples. "Let me think."
I hung up and looked out the window. The sky was overcast, damp and cold—like a late-autumn drizzle.
The car was silent. Of course they'd heard.
Werewolves never missed a thing.
Theron said nothing.
Adrian, however, turned around, his tone softening slightly. "Don't worry. We're taking a private jet, and the car can go straight through the private lane. He won't find you."
The tension in my chest eased instantly. I nearly sighed in relief. "That's great."
Why hadn't I thought of that?
After all, I was with Alpha Theron.
Theron glanced at me. "Estelle," he said, "your standards are
