It was nearing 11 p.m., and my eyelids were growing heavier by the minute. The discussions around me continued in quiet murmurs, thick with strategy and tension, but I was barely holding on.
Suddenly, Aurelian stood. His voice was calm but firm as he dismissed everyone. The others didn’t argue—they nodded, understanding the need for rest. The mansion was large, with more than enough rooms, and everyone quietly peeled off to claim a space for the night.
Despite everything that had happened, the werewolves didn’t look exhausted—they looked alert, worried, like their minds refused to rest even if their bodies wanted to.
Aurelian didn’t say a word as he scooped me into his arms. He carried me into our room, gentle and sure. I didn’t protest—didn’t even have the energy to. He changed me into
