Ava's POV
Anderson didn’t answer. He just stood there, a dark silhouette against the raging sea, watching me.
His expression was unreadable and complicated.
It wasn’t hatred. I knew what hatred looked like.
I had grown up in it. But it wasn’t pity either. And somehow that unsettled me more.
The wind howled between us, carrying salt, storm, and the scent of wet earth.
Still, he said nothing. So I broke the silence myself. “Don’t worry,” I said, forcing a hollow smile. “Even if I die…”
The words tasted strangely calm. “…it’ll be after the twenty-fourth.”
My wolf stirred uneasily at hearing death spoken so plainly.
I ignored it.
“But you have to promise me one thing.”
Anderson’s gaze sharpened.
“Nora and Richard.” My voice softened.
“Don’t make things difficult for them.”
For al
