Romance

  Brett&#39;s POV
  He didn&#39;t move.
  That ragged-looking wolf, curled in the corner, just stared at me for the long seconds after I was shoved in and the heavy door clanged shut. Utterly still, like a wild animal assessing a threat or an opportunity, radiating a clear &#39;don&#39;t mess with me&#39; vibe. I froze by the door, the loose chain of the single remaining cuff on my wrist swaying slightly with my uneven breaths, tinking softly against the metal.
  Time crawled through the stale air. My palms were slick with sweat, but strangely, the instinctive tremor I’d feel facing an enemy was absent. His scent was complex—dust, old blood, cheap tobacco, and something… bitter. But it held no focused, tearing-me-apart malice.
  Finally, he shifted. Not an attack, just adjusting into a slightly less cramped position against the cold wall. Those eyes, gleaming faintly with a tawny-gold ti

  Aurora &#39;s Perspective
  It was the cold that woke me. That, and the lingering stench of cheap disinfectant and damp mold. The spot on the back of my neck where the stun gun hit still throbbed dully, a sickening pulse keeping time with the ache in my skull.
  I opened my eyes. It took several seconds for my vision to adjust. Not to light, but to the absolute, suffocating weight of the dark. No windows. Not a sliver of light. I was lying on a thin, lumpy mattress, the cold, rough texture of concrete beneath me. The air was stagnant, thick enough to choke on.
  I wasn&#39;t tied up. A small, shaky wave of relief, immediately followed by a sharper spike of fear—they were either confident I couldn&#39;t escape, or they simply didn&#39;t care if I tried. I pushed myself up to sit, every muscle protesting, especially where I&#39;d hit the ground during the crash. I checked myself over. My

  Aurora&#39;s Perspective
  My name is Aurora. I’m eighteen, the so-called ‘princess’ of the Moonlight Pack—at least, that’s what everyone around me seems to think. God, listen to that title. How ridiculous.
  At eighteen, my life should be full of college parties, road trips, and hilariously bad hookups. Not trapped in this massive, cold mansion of glass and stone, saddled with family duty, having awkward weekly dinners with some other pack’s ‘promising young heir.’
  Ethan, my father, Alpha of one of the largest werewolf packs in the state. He’s as steady and unyielding as a glacier. The love in his eyes when he looks at me feels… heavy, like a mountain about to crush my shoulders.
  Lily, my mother, once a livewire, now the picture of elegant grace as the pack&#39;s Luna. But her nagging has only gotten stronger—endless lectures on ‘poise,’ ‘duty,’ and ‘suitable matches.’
  Then ther

Brett&#39;s POV
  He didn&#39;t move.
  That ragged-looking wolf, curled in the corner, just stared at me for the long seconds after I was shoved in and the heavy door clanged shut. Utterly still, like a wild animal assessing a threat or an opportunity, radiating a clear &#39;don&#39;t mess with me&#39; vibe. I froze by the door, the loose chain of the single remaining cuff on my wrist swaying slightly with my uneven breaths, tinking softly against the metal.
  Time crawled through the stale air. My palms were slick with sweat, but strangely, the instinctive tremor I’d feel facing an enemy was absent. His scent was complex—dust, old blood, cheap tobacco, and something… bitter. But it held no focused, tearing-me-apart malice.
  Finally, he shifted. Not an attack, just adjusting into a slightly less cramped position against the cold wall. Those eyes, gleaming faintly with a tawny-gold tint in the gloom, remained locked on me.
  &quot;New?&quot; His voice was low, rough like sandpape

Chapter 251