Ophelia's POV

Awkwardness seeped into the fabric of our wolf connection, a subtle shift that left me uneasy in the moonlit forest. Avoiding Michaelson's gaze became a dance of evasion, each step carrying a weight of unspoken tension.

One evening, that discomfort grew tangible. The moon hung low, casting shadows that mirrored the unease between us. Prowling alongside Michaelson, I felt the awkwardness like an uninvited companion, altering the cadence of our usually effortless movements.

A ...