Rey led Beau through the back door of the cabin, the night air slamming into them with a cold that sent a shiver crawling down her spine.
The moon hung full and heavy in the sky, its silvery glow spilling across the endless blanket of snow. Every step crunched loud in her ears, too loud, as though the silence itself might betray them.
Her eyes darted everywhere, scanning the tree line, the dark edges of the clearing, and the shadows between snow-laden branches. There were no Lycans in sight, no movements, nothing but the cold hush of winter.
"Come on," she whispered, tugging Beau along. His small hand clutched hers tightly as they bolted toward the shelter of the woods.
***
Back at the feast, Orion couldn't focus. The laughter, the tearing of meat, the wine—it all blurred into a dull
