Chase
The second Clara ran out of the kitchen, the room felt colder. Not physically. Instinctively. My wolf slammed against my ribs like a caged beast.
Go after her.
Every part of me wants to. But the alpha in me knows I can't just abandon the situation behind me either.
I slowly turn back toward the kitchen.
The candles are still burning higher than normal, the wax dripping down their sides in uneven trails. The smell of singed wick hangs faintly in the air.
And Trisha is still standing there. Watching the doorway Clara had disappeared through. Then she looks at me. Her expression is somewhere between curious and irritated.
"Well," she said, crossing her arms. "That was dramatic."
My wolf growls low in my chest. Not out loud. But it took effort not to. I step toward her slow
