Eliana POV
I never imagined peace could feel like this.
Not in the middle of a war I couldn’t see, not after weeks of running, bleeding, doubting every face in the pack I once called home.
But here, in this little hidden world, I felt human again.
Not a target. Not a weapon. Not the girl Scarlet chose or the Alpha people whispered about.
Just… Eliana.
The girl laughing barefoot in an old stone kitchen with flour in her hair and Alexander’s voice echoing beside her.
It started with bread.
He assured me he had the recipe locked in the banks of his memory, although the manner of the gripping of the jars of spices proved him otherwise.
“That is not cinnamon,” I said, and looked narrowly at the small bottle.
He scowled. “It smells like cinnamon.”
“It smells like peppercorn and regre
