FINN
The wind carried the scent of pine as I stood in the second-floor corridor, by a cathedral-style window that stretched from floor to ceiling, my eyes on the slender figure moving swiftly through the garden and slipping passed the outer Academy gates.
Soft tap of boots echoed behind me. I didn’t turn.
Alpha Hugo’s scent hit me before his voice did—leather, power, and steel.
With a low growl, he tossed something at my feet. A crumpled envelope slid across the polished floor and came to a stop by my boot.
The letter.
My letter.
"I am warning you," his voice was rough, edged in anger, but quieter than I expected. "Don’t you dare threaten me like that again.”
I didn’t look at him. Just kept my gaze locked on Seth’s silhouette vanishing into the trees.
“Thank you,” I said softly.
