Elena's POV
Elena turned the silver ring between her fingers, her thumb tracing the cool, raised contours of the metal.
It was heavy.
Cold.
Unlike any ordinary ring.
The wolf engraved in the center looked fierce, almost alive—its bared fangs caught the harsh fluorescent light of the basement archives, casting tiny, jagged shadows. Beneath the creature's silhouette, etched in sharp, blocky lettering, was a single word:
"IRON..."
The word instantly reminded her of the mysterious biker who had saved her a year ago. That night was still a blur of rain, flashing headlights, and the roar of a custom engine, but she remembered the lethal grace of the man who had pulled her out of harm's way. He had worn dark leather, moved like a predator, and vanished before she could even ask his name.
