Lucas’s pov
The stench of damp earth and decaying leaves clung to me, a familiar comfort in the face of the storm brewing inside. I stood at the edge of the whispering woods, the usual tranquility a mocking contrast to the turmoil twisting my gut. Chloe was late. Or maybe I was early, driven by an anxiety that gnawed at my insides like a hungry wolf.
I wasn't supposed to be here. Not after she'd told me. Not after she'd shattered the image I held of my father, the man I was told died a long time ago. The man I thought I knew.
A twig snapped behind me, and I spun around, my senses instantly on high alert. Chloe emerged from the shadows, her face pale in the moonlight, her dark eyes wide with a mixture of smug and determination. She was everything I wasn't at the moment: grounded, resolve
