Vera's POV
High noon bathed the Moonlit Pack’s upscale restaurant in a searing glow, but inside, the air conditioning roared at full blast. Every shop in the pack’s domain followed suit—werewolves, with their feverish bodies, could brave winter’s bite but wilted under summer’s relentless midday blaze. Merchants, eager for wolf patrons, spared no expense, cranking the cold to arctic levels, the air sharp enough to sting.
Yet, while the chill soothed overheated flesh, it did nothing to temper the fiery hearts of some. “Here’s the full list of my assets,” Ridian said, his single eye fixed on Vera, sliding a stack of papers across the table. A jagged scar marred his other eye, the lid sealed shut by a long-healed knife wound, a relic of battles past.
Vera ignored the papers, lazily stirring
