Liam’s POV
When I saw her walking through the iron gates, relief hit me so hard my knees almost buckled.
She came back.
I took a step forward, ready to run to her, ready to drag her into my arms and never let go. But then, the wind shifted.
It didn't carry the scent of lavender or vanilla. It carried the thick, metallic tang of copper.
"What happened to the Luna?" a guard whispered nearby.
"Is that... is that blood?"
I froze.
Luna was walking across the gravel drive, her movements mechanical, disjointed. She was barefoot. Her clothes—my stolen parka and jeans—were drenched.
Not in water. In red.
Blood coated her skin, matted her hair, and dripped from her fingertips. She looked like she had bathed in it.
"It smells like wolf blood," Jack murmured beside me, his voice tight with
