Marigold POV

The next day felt like a hangover without the fun of tequila shots. My body was stiff from sleeping in Nonna’s too-small cottage bed, my hair still smelled faintly of smoke from Gregor’s midnight wolf-horror show, and I was stuck in a car with His Alpha Grumpiness behind the wheel.

He drove like the road had personally insulted him—knuckles white, jaw locked, shoulders tight as steel. Meanwhile, I sat in the passenger seat, sipping what might have been the world’s worst ...