“Where are we going, Matteo?” she asked, looking out the window as the trees blurred past.
“A place where the pack can’t reach us,” I said softly.
Two hours later, we arrived. A private cabin with large glass windows sat on the edge of a ridge overlooking Whispering Lake. The water below was clear and deep blue, surrounded by mountains. It was neutral territory, a peaceful place away from everyone, and completely private.
When Lara got out of the car, she walked straight to the edge of the overlook, taking a deep, shuddering breath of the crisp mountain air. The star mark on her collarbone pulsed once, a faint silver shimmer beneath her sweater, reacting to the raw magic of the old forest.
“It’s beautiful,” she whispered.
“I bought it three years ago,” I confessed, walking up to stand
