Taylor's POV
The fluorescent glare of the gas station canopy was harsh, unnatural. It made the world look sterile. I liked the shadows.
I leaned against the side of my SUV, watching the digital numbers on the pump tick upward. The tank was almost full, but I didn’t move to stop it. The silence was a luxury I rarely gave myself.
But my phone vibrated against the metal roof of my vehicle.
The screen read Mother.
I let it ring twice before answering.
“I’m driving back.”
“I don’t care about your driving schedule, Taylor,” my mother’s voice came through the speaker, sharp, demanding. “The Pack is restless. The elders are whispering. You’re twenty-six, and you have no heir. You have no Luna.”
“I have a company to run,” I said, my voice devoid of emotion. “That keeps the Pack fed.”
“You’
