Viggo
Arwen’s hand is small in mine, trembling slightly. The bond between us thrums, hot and insistent—fear sparks in the air, yet determination lines her jaw. Trust pulses between our hearts, fierce and unyielding.
The knock echoes again — slow, deliberate, wrong.
First of all, who the fuc.k would come knocking at this hour?
Secondly, it isn’t a member of the pack. If it were, they would have mind-linked, not knocked on the door. If there were an emergency, my grandfather would have let everyone know by now.
Whoever is on the other side of that door should not have gotten into pack territory without anyone noticing. Something isn’t right here.
I move forward with Arwen right at my back, our steps silent but determined. My Lycan paces restlessly beneath my skin, ready to leap forward
