Diana’s POV
I lay sprawled across my bed, the dying evening light slipping through the curtains like silver dust, casting ghostly patterns across the walls.
The worn pages of my favorite werewolf novel, ‘Demi-God Nemesis,’ curled beneath my fingers.
The spine was cracked, the cover faded from love and overuse. I’d read it at least four times.
And yet, I felt uneasy every time I reached the part of the Alpha, the powerful and commanding leader of the pack.
My eyes traced the same lines again. A shiver ran down my spine, my breath hitching as if it were the first time I’d read it.
“THE ALPHA STEPPED ONTO THE BATTLEFIELD. HE MOVED LIKE THUNDER WRAPPED IN FLESH. THE OTHERS TREMBLED, NOT FROM FEAR, BUT FROM INSTINCT. POWER LIKE HE WASN’T MEANT TO BE QUESTIONED.”
A shiver rippled through
