Rome
I couldn’t sleep.
The night air was thick, heavy with the scent of something just out of reach. I stood outside the packhouse, the cool breeze brushing over my skin, and for the hundredth time this week, I rubbed the back of my neck.
Something was wrong.
No—not wrong.
Shifting.
Changing.
And I could feel it deep in my bones.
Aries stirred inside me, pacing. Restless.
She’s stirring.
He said it like a statement. Not a question.
I frowned. “Who?”
You know who.
I didn’t answer right away.
Because I did know.
I just didn’t want to say it out loud.
⸻
It had started two days ago.
A sudden tug in my chest—like something had grabbed me from the inside and started pulling.
At first, I thought it was the mate I’d scented in Ann Arbor. The dark-haired girl with the stormy eyes
