Third Person’s POV
Duke’s eyes widened in disbelief, golden irises almost glowing from shock.
Had he really lost controlst night? Did <b>his </b><b>wolf </b>act on its <b>own</b><b>? </b>
No. No. Absolutely not.
He wasn’t <b>that </b><b>kind </b>of man. He wasn’t <b>that </b><b>kind </b>of wolf.
And yet the surveince footage didn’t lie. Carmen Hawthorne had entered his apartment… and then fled in tears, disheveled and terrified.
He gritted his teeth.
Duke couldn’t <b>remember </b>a damn thing fromst night–but the ache in his temples told him he had indeed been dangerously.drunk. <b>And </b>the look on her face in that recording?
He couldn’t ignore it..
He had to find her.
+8 Pearls
After a quick wash <b>and </b>a change into a navy blue <b>patrol </b>jacket, Duke headed to the door–only to halt when his eyesnded. on the ck, high–grade wolfskin umbre resting <b>against </b>the <b>entrance </b>bench.
<b>The </b>Maybach crest.
Memory flickered–the girl… standing at the bar’s entrance… her hand offering the umbre…
He must’ve asked her to bring him home. Gods.
He cursed under his <b>breath</b>.
What the hell had he been thinking? He didn’t <b>even </b>know her name. They’d only met twice.
Duke grabbed <b>his </b>coat and exited the suite.
Inside the lift, the idle voices of two older pack matriarchs reached his ears.
“Did you hear what happenedst night? A rogue tried to corner a young she–wolf near <b>the </b>Alpha <b>Quarter </b>gates.”
“i saw it on the patrolwork this morning! If the guards hadn’t arrived–Moon Goddess bless her…”
“Girls these days—what are they doing out <b>past </b>moonrise? No sense of safety”
The chill ran up Duke’s <b>spine </b>like a de.
They couldn’t possibly mean…
The one who helped him home!
A crung sense of <b>guilt </b>surged <b>through </b>Jum. If she was attacked because of <b>him</b>–because he <b>asked </b>her to bring him home.
He turned around at once and headed to the Stormridge Guard Hall.
Within <b>minutes </b>he was hunched over the console, reviewingst night’s perimeter footage
There she wa
D
3:50 PM p p.
+8 Pearls
Her blouse torn, face pale, clutching herself <b>as </b>she stumbled toward the gate, a rogue male dragging behind her. Her eyes wide <b>with </b>fear. Her body trembling. The guards tackling the male secondster.
Duke’s stomach twisted <b>into </b>knots.
It was real.
He clenched the edge of the desk until his knuckles turned <b>white</b>.
She nearly got vited. Because of him.
He had to find her. Now.
But <b>there </b>was one problem–he still didn’t know her full name.
So he took the next step. He went to the Watch Commander’s Office and requested the incident report. His status as Beta- Assistant under <b>Alpha </b>Storm allowed him direct ess.
There
he found it.
Carmen Hawthorne. Ashmoor University. Emergency contact recorded. Location: the Lunar Crest Café.
Lunar Crest Café – Across from Ashmoor University
The afternoon sun poured in through the high crystal windows, bathing the wood–paneled walls in soft golden light. The warmth did little to calm the tension at the small corner table where Duke sat across from Carmen.
She looked… fragile.
Her hands were clenched around her dress sleeves, knuckles pale, shoulders curled inward. Her eyes darted <b>around </b>nervously, as if she expected danger to leap from everyer.
Duke’s throat tightened.
She looked like a frightened fawn cornered by a beast.
“I’m sorry,” <b>Duke </b>finally <b>said</b><b>, </b>voice rough with guilt. “Forst night.”
<b>Carmen’s </b><b>lips </b>trembled as she tried to lift her cup of herbal brew. The porcin clinked <b>against </b>the saucer from the tremor in. her hands. Her fingers barely steadied the <b>handle</b>.
She looked like she’d been through hell.
And Duke felt like the one who’d dragged her into it.
If he hadn’t let himself get <b>drunk </b>
If he hadn’t asked her to bring <b>him </b>home….
If she hadn’t been <b>walking </b><b>back </b>alone through the lower <b>alley </b>outside the patrol grid
“I was-” he began <b>again</b>, I <b>was </b><b>drunk</b>. That’s not an excuse, but it’s the truth”
Carmen shook her head <b>quickly</b>, stammering. “T–it’s it’s <b>not </b>your fault, sir <b>I </b><b>know </b>you’re a good person.”
Her voice benke, and tears welled in hershes She <b>blinked </b>them back <b>quickly </b>curling in on herself even more <b>like </b>a pup weathering a storm
Duke inhaled sharply, guilt ripping through him. He reached into his coat <b>and </b>ced <b>a </b>carved wooden token on the table Sturridge payment sigil etched with his personal crest
“It’s apensation token” he said quietly “There’s a hundred <b>thousand </b><b>marks </b>linked to a From my personal vault. For the
piciend
150 P P P ·
<b>Carmen </b>didn’t <b>speak. </b>Her head dropped <b>lower</b>, <b>and </b>her <b>long </b><b>fringe </b>veiled <b>most </b>of <b>her </b><b>face</b>.
Duke <b>assumed </b>she was offended. That he’d insulted her pride.
What he didn’t see <b>what </b><b>no </b>one saw–<b>was </b>the flicker of glee behind those loweredshes.
Hook Line. Sinker.
+8 Pearls
Carmen wanted tough <b>with </b><b>triumph</b><b>, </b>but she kept her body perfectly still. Her fingers trembled with perfectly calcted grace Tears clung to hershes, unfallen. It was an art
She <b>had </b>pulled it off.
Shallow wounds, deep rewards.
Inside, she was already <b>nning </b>her next move. The moment the token was hers, she’d begin preparations.
Tomorrow, she’d vanish. With these money. <b>She </b>and Riley would finally leave this cursed territory. Away <b>from </b>the packs. <b>Away </b>from hierarchy. Just them, free.
As for <b>Duke</b>?
Carmen spared him a nce.
He really <b>was </b>her type–<b>refined</b>, powerful, oblivious,
But no man, no matter how attractive, couldpare to what Riley had given her purpose.
She wrapped her <b>arms </b>around herself and let out a faint sob.
Across the table, Duke looked at her helplessly, guilt sinking deeper into <b>his </b>bones.
Neither noticed the surveince raven perched just beyond the café window, its mirrored <b>eyes </b>glinting in the sun.
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