CATALINA***

“Are you kidding me right now?” I snapped, stomping hard enough to lift dust from the floor. Conry stood like a statue in the doorway, arms folded, eyes narrowed. He wore that cool, unreadable face he used when he didn’t want to argue.

“So you’re doing that thing you do every time—pretending I’m not here,” I said, jaw tight. “How in the world would you make a stranger from another pack your Luna?” I raised an eyebrow and waited for him to brush it off.

Instead ...