Then—
CRACK.
A noise outside.
Sharp. Too close.
Nora froze beneath me.
I lifted my head, breath ragged, senses firing back to combat speed.
Another sound—soft. Footstep? Brush?
Hard to tell.
“Wolf—” she whispered, voice shaking.
“Stay here,” I whispered back, already reaching for my shirt. “Don’t move.”
Her hand caught mine. “Be careful.”
“I will.”
I grabbed the handgun from my bag by the door, flipped off the safety, and moved silently toward the front windows.
The night pressed against the glass.
Still.
Too still.
Saint’s earlier words echoed in my mind.
He’s hunting.
And he wasn’t finished.
12
Wolf
The night outside Nora’s house felt wrong.
Too still.
Too quiet.
Like the darkness itself was holding its breath.
I moved low and silent along the porch, gun drawn, every instinct razor-sharp. Cold air cut across my skin, cooling the heat that had burned through me moments before.
Behind me, inside, Nora waited.
Half-dressed.
Vulnerable.
Terrified.
