Morning came with bruised skies and restless silence. The Valenti manor, usually humming with controlled order, felt… wrong. Too many footsteps. Too many hushed voices. Too many eyes darting toward Calla when they thought she wasn’t looking.
Something had happened. Something big. Calla descended the staircase, dressed in black slacks and Adrian’s oversized shirt — the only clean thing she could find after last night’s chaos. The fabric hung off her shoulders, brushing her thighs, smelling faintly of cedar and smoke.
It shouldn’t have mattered. But her body remembered the way he held her.
The way he kissed her.
The way his wolf calmed under her touch.
Her cheeks flushed. She straightened her back. Focus. Stay rational.
She found Lorenzo waiting at the bottom of the stairs, arms folde
