Serenya's POV
The hum of the car feels too loud. Every breath I take tastes like guilt. Darian’s hands are tight on the wheel. He hasn’t said a word since the light turned green three blocks ago. Not one. But I can feel it, the way his senses sharpen when he’s trying not to explode.
When his jaw flexes again, I know what’s coming.
“I can smell him,” he says. “Kaelen.”
My pulse spikes. I stare out the window, focus on the blur of headlights instead of his face. Maybe if I stay silent, it’ll pass. Maybe if I breathe slowly enough, he’ll let it go.
He doesn’t.
The car jerks as he pulls over, tires crunching gravel. He kills the engine. I can feel his stare before I even turn my head.
“Tell me what happened, Seri,” he says. “Now.”
I shake my head, fingers twitching uselessly in my lap
