Sherman
The penthouse was dark when I stepped inside, shadows stretching long across the floor.
Another day gone, another crisis barely managed. My bones ached with the kind of exhaustion that sleep never fully cures.
Silvia was waiting for me in the living room.
Her red hair was down, and she was wearing one of my old T-shirts.
The air smelled wrong.
Lavender, mixed with something bitter. Like scorched citrus.
She was worried. Tense. Maybe even guilty.
"I talked to Noah," she said. No hello, no smile.
I dropped my jacket on the hook without looking at her.
My wolf, Leo, tensed right away.I felt his claws just under my skin.
I kept my face neutral, my movements slow, even as my pulse ticked up.
I crossed the room and poured myself two fingers of bourbo
