Romance

  Aurora &#39;s Perspective
  The roar of the engine felt like it would tear the quiet night apart. Lex drove as if we were in a NASCAR race, every turn threatening to lift the tires off the asphalt. I sat in the passenger seat, fingers digging into the leather, knuckles white.
  In the back, Mother sat ramrod straight, her profile in the fleeting streetlights looking like a marble statue—tense and unyielding. Father held her hand tightly, his silence heavier than any words.
  The hospital&#39;s harsh, sterile lights and the smell of antiseptic hit us like a physical wall.
  We practically ran through the automatic doors into the emergency zone. The hallway was already occupied—Uncle Jacob paced like a caged bear, each heavy step seeming to crack the tiles beneath. Aunt Celena was curled in a cold plastic chair, hands clenched together on her knees, her eyes fixed on some distant point, 

  Aurora&#39;s Perspective
  It was a thrill that went bone-deep, like electricity under my skin, making every pore breathe in the night’s tense air. I tossed and turned in bed, the expensive Egyptian cotton sheets tangled into a ruin beneath me. Closing my eyes only brought a barrage of images—the pulsing red ambulance lights, Brett&#39;s stubborn &quot;I&#39;m fine&quot; grin, the frozen coldness in Mother&#39;s eyes when she&#39;d mentioned Uncle Keith&#39;s team moving out.
  Outside, the night was still a deep ink-black, only the faintest hint of grey seeping into the eastern horizon. The estate slept in silence, broken only by the low murmur of patrols changing shifts and the wind rustling through the ancient oaks.
  Then the sounds changed.
  First came sporadic, muffled cheers from the direction of the front courtyard, dulled as if heard through water. Then more voices joined in—

  Brett&#39;s Perspective
  A heavier barrage of fire raked the truck. The guards were pissed. Sparks flew as bullets struck metal. Suddenly, the passenger gunner jolted, a muffled grunt escaping him. He almost dropped his rifle. The fabric over his right shoulder darkened rapidly with blood.
  &quot;Damn it! Lycotine rounds! Sneaky bastards!&quot; he snarled, his voice tight with pain. That vile, wolf-specific ammunition designed to slow healing and cause agony.
  He immediately tore a strip from his shirt, tying a tight tourniquet above the wound, but his face contorted in pain, his return fire becoming slow and clumsy.
  The driver cursed, trying more erratic maneuvers, but with one gunner nearly out, the pressure skyrocketed. The SUVs closed in, even trying to flank us.
  Despair washed back in.
  Out of the frying pan, into a shooting gallery on wheels?
  Then, a new sound. Engines,

Aurora &#39;s Perspective
  The roar of the engine felt like it would tear the quiet night apart. Lex drove as if we were in a NASCAR race, every turn threatening to lift the tires off the asphalt. I sat in the passenger seat, fingers digging into the leather, knuckles white.
  In the back, Mother sat ramrod straight, her profile in the fleeting streetlights looking like a marble statue—tense and unyielding. Father held her hand tightly, his silence heavier than any words.
  The hospital&#39;s harsh, sterile lights and the smell of antiseptic hit us like a physical wall.
  We practically ran through the automatic doors into the emergency zone. The hallway was already occupied—Uncle Jacob paced like a caged bear, each heavy step seeming to crack the tiles beneath. Aunt Celena was curled in a cold plastic chair, hands clenched together on her knees, her eyes fixed on some distant point, her face ghostly pale. Seeing us, Jacob rushed over.
  &quot;Ethan! Lily!&quot; His voice was gra

Chapter 271