Chloe
The night was too quiet.
Not the uneasy kind—the kind that settles deep into your bones, wrapping around you like a promise you’re afraid to believe. The moon hung high over Crescent Hollow, pale and watchful, bathing the pack grounds in silver. Tomorrow, blood would be spilled. Tomorrow, everything could change.
But tonight was ours.
I sat on the edge of the small our bed, fingers worrying the hem of Elijah’s shirt where it draped over my thighs. It still smelled like him—pine, smoke, and that unmistakable warmth that grounded me when my world felt like it was constantly shattering.
Elijah stood by the window, arms crossed, staring out into the trees. Alpha. Warrior. Mate.
And somehow, still the boy I fell in love with.
“You’re thinking too loud,” I murmured.
A corner of his
