Elena’s pov
The houses of the village square were worn smooth with age, the scent of baking bread and blooming flowers thick in the air. This place, nestled far from the werewolves, felt a world away from the shadowed corners of my own life. Even the light seemed softer here, filtered through the leaves of ancient trees that canopied the lanes.
Lucas adjusted the satchel at his shoulder, his gaze sweeping the jovial elves bustling around us. “Beauty, betraying us…it stings, doesn't it?" He said, his voice low.
I sighed, the weight of Beauty's supposed betrayal pressing down on me. "It does. I just... I wish she’d trusted us enough to tell us if she was being threatened. A warning would have been enough. We wouldn't have left her to face it alone."
Lucas laid a hand on my arm, his touch
