Scarlett’s POV

The night is heavy, thick with tension and the bitter tang of my own thoughts. I pace along the cobblestone streets outside the packhouse, letting the cool air cut through me, desperate for something—anything—to clear my mind. My fists clench and unclench at my sides, the memory of last night’s chaos still burning like embers under my skin.

I can’t stop replaying it: Kane, his hands on me, the ancestral haze flaring red, my wolf roaring in response to desire and anger ...