Elsa’s POV
The knock was soft, but it pulled me from my restless sleep like thunder.
I blinked against the dim morning light, the silken canopy above me unfamiliar even now. My heart stuttered in my chest. It couldn’t be Dylan—if it were, I would have already felt his presence, the heavy command of his aura pressing against my wolf.
I sat up quickly, clutching the edges of my robe and tying it around my waist. My bare feet sank into the thick carpet as I moved toward the living room. The knock came again quieter, hesitant.
I pulled open the door.
And my world stopped.
Standing there, wide-eyed, trembling, was Lila.
I froze, my throat closing, convinced I was dreaming. My hand shot up to my face, wiping at my eyes, desperate to clear the illusion. But she didn’t vanish. She was real.
