Viggo
The hallway outside the infirmary feels too small.
Too quiet.
Too far away from my mate.
Back and forth, I pace the hallway, each step edged with panic. My claws threaten to break through my fingertips. Under my skin, my Lycan storms—snarling, restless, furious. His rage compresses my chest; I can barely breathe.
I cannot believe what happened!
I left my mate for a few hours. I thought she’d be safe here, but I have never been more wrong.
Finn leans against the wall, arms crossed, watching me with that infuriating calm he inherited from our mother.
“You’re wearing a trench in the floor,” he says.
“I should’ve been here,” I mumble.
“You were with Dad, Viggo.” Finn sighs.
I shake my head. “That’s not an excuse, Finn. I shouldn’t have left Arwen. I should have waited a few da
