Phoebe's POV
I leaned back in my chair, letting a lazy smile curl on my lips as I twirled a strand of my golden hair between my fingers. The dining hall buzzed with chatter and laughter, the scent of roasted meat and spiced wine thick in the air. The long wooden tables were filled with pack members enjoying the evening meal, their conversations blending into an indistinct hum. But my attention was fixed on one thing—making Luke miserable.
Across from me, he sat stiffly, his fingers wrapped around his cup, gaze fixed on the table as if the knots in the wood grain held the secrets of the universe. He had been like this for weeks now. Quiet. Withdrawn. Pathetic.
It was almost disappointing.
Beside me, Callum, one of the warriors, poured more wine into my cup. His smirk was confident, his
