The cabin was nestled deep in the forest, far from the hustle and bustle of the Pink Moon Pack’s estate. It was small but cozy, with wooden walls that seemed to hum with warmth from the crackling fire in the stone hearth. A large bed sat in the corner, its thick quilts and plush pillows practically inviting them to sink in and forget the outside world.
Chanel stood by the window, her arms wrapped around herself as she stared out at the vast darkness of the woods. The silence was almost unnerving, broken only by the occasional rustle of leaves in the wind. She felt exposed, even though there wasn’t another soul for miles.
Devon emerged from the small kitchen, carrying two steaming mugs of tea. He placed one on the windowsill beside her and took a sip from the other.
“You’ve been quiet,”
