The days bled into a tense, waiting game.
We were in the eye of the hurricane. The Pack House was a hive of quiet activity—Alpha Sam and Luca held hushed councils with Liam in the study, debating the legality of our existence. Jack and Bastien retreated to the garage, bonding over the engine of a vintage Mustang like two boys who weren't preparing for an assassination.
I spent my evenings with Mila.
Liam had insisted. He didn't want me isolated in the house, stewing in my own anxiety while he plotted war. So, Mila would pick me up, and we would drive. We didn't go to malls or movies. We drove the perimeter roads, the windows down, letting the cold air numb the fear.
"Can I ask you something?" I broke the silence as we cruised along the edge of the forest. The moon was high, painting th
