The night was thick with tension. A full moon, bright and unyielding, hung high above the city, casting an eerie silver glow over the towering skyline. The light seeped into every corner, every shadow, amplifying something primal in the air.
Inside his penthouse at Blackwood Tower, Silas paced restlessly, his muscles coiled like a predator on the hunt. A fine sheen of sweat glistened on his skin, his breaths uneven. His entire body burned, heat rolling off him in waves. Something was wrong.
His wolf was stirring—agitated, unsettled, starving for something.
He tried to focus, to steady his thoughts, but his vision was blurring at the edges. His chest ached with an unfamiliar pull, his skin tight as if it were fighting to hold something in.
His phone buzzed on the coffee table. The name
