<b>Chapter </b><b>154 </b>


    “I’m sorry, Beta Luc, but we need to make our trip shorter. I have to make sure my Luna is safe first,” Francesco said, his voice steady, carrying that unshakable authority only an Alpha Lycan could possess.


    Before I could even react, he was already shrugging out of his shirt and draping it over my shoulders.


    The warmth of his body still lingered in the fabric, a stark contrast to the icy water that had sunk into my skin. I pulled it tighter around me, swallowing down the shiver that wanted to betray just how shaken I still was.


    Luc only nodded, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes. Not suspicion, <i>not </i>outright concern–something heavier. Something I couldn’t name, His silence said more than words could.


    Francesco’s arm stayed firmly around me as we began the walk back. His grip was strong, unyielding, as though he thought I might vanish if he let go for even a second. My wet clothes clung to me, every step squishing unpleasantly in my shoes, but his hold grounded me, a tether against the storm still raging inside.


    No one spoke. Not him, not Luc, not even Audrey, who usually couldn’t hide her thoughts if her life depended on it. The silence wasn’t empty—it was thick. Like all of us were holding our breath, pretending nothing had happened, while every nerve in my body screamed that something had.


    But it wasn’t just them.


    As we drew closer to the edge of the packnds, people turned. Their eyesnded on me, widened, and then… shifted. Not in casual curiosity, not ever in polite interest. Shock. Recognition. Fear.


    Warriors pausing mid–step, their hands tightening instinctively around their weapons. Young men who had beenughing a heartbeat before, now staring as though they’d seen a ghost walk past them.


    And maybe, in a way, they had.


    Their gazes snapped away almost immediately, but not before I caught that flicker–like they knew. Like they understood something I didn’t.


    The realization slithered through me, slow and cold: whatever happened in thatke, it wasn’t just my nightmare. It was their secret.


    I bit the inside of my cheek, keeping my expression as nk as I could I forced myself to ignore the dripping of my hair down my back, the weight of Francesco’s shirt sticking to my skin, the way my wolf still trembled inside me. My instincts screamed to ask, to demand answers, but I knew better.


    I remembered what they said. The warning whispered before.


    No one remembers.


    But I did…


    I remembered the hands pulling me under. The hollow faces. The children’sughter warped into something broken. The ancient hunger that coiled in the shadows. I remembered everything.


    And now I knew–remembering was dangerous.


    Francesco hadn’t let go of me once, his hand firm around my waist, guiding me forward like he could sense the war inside me. His silence <b>wasn’t </b><b>casual</b>. He knew. He knew I knew something. But he wasn’t calling me out, wasn’t demanding I exin what I’d seen. Not here. Not in front <b>of </b><b>them</b><b>. </b>


    That almost scared me more.


    I nced up at him, the sharp angles of his face carved <i>in </i>stone. His jaw was set tight, his <b>eyes </b>forward, but <b>the </b><b>heat </b><b>of </b><b>his </b><b>body </b><b>pressed </b><b>against </b><b>me </b>betrayed the tension thrumming through him. He was holding himself together <b>for </b>me–or for <b>them</b><b>? </b>


    I couldn’t tell.


    nu, 28 AugAN


    When the pack mansion loomed into view, its towers catching the fading light of dusk, relief should have washed over me. dread curled tighter in my stomach.


    Because safety here was a lie.


    Safety. Shelter But instead,


    Every pair of eyes that had followed me, every whisper cut short as we passed it all told me the same thing. Theke wasn’t a secret. It was <b>a </b>wound. A wound this pack had buried and refused to speak of.


    And I had ripped it open.


    Francesco didn’t let go of me the entire walk back.


    His arm was heavy around my shoulders, pulling me tight against his side, as if even the smallest space between us would invite the world to steal me away.


    His shirt was draped over me, the fabric too big, clinging to my damp skin, smelling of cedarwood and smoke–him.


    No one spoke.


    The silence pressed down like fog, thick and strange, and though I felt the weight of a hundred eyes on me, I didn’t dare lift my head.


    Still, I caught the flickers of shock, disbelief, even awe in the faces of the people we passed–wolves who paused mid–step, who turned to watch as their Beta led me through the streets, wet and disheveled, but walking.


    Something had happened back there.


    Something bigger than I could yet understand.


    But Francesco said nothing or maybe he didn’t aware of what happen there.


    Not a single word as we crossed the gates into the mansion, the heavy doors closing behind us with a final thud. The air inside was warmer, quieter, but it didn’t soften the iron grip he had on me. His silence was louder than anger, vibrating with something I couldn’t name.


    He didn’t release me even when Marlow and Audrey tried to follow, their steps cautious, their concern written on their faces.


    “Leave us,” Francesco ordered, his voice sharp, brooking no argument.


    His gaze never left me, but the weight of his authority rippled out like amand to the marrow, and they obeyed.


    The door shut behind us, locking us into the vast stillness of our chamber.


    That was when I braced myself.


    For his fury.


    For his rage at me for throwing myself into danger again, for being reckless, for making him watch me risk my life.


    But none of that came.


    Instead, the moment thetch clicked, he pulled me into him.


    His arms wrapped around me so tightly 1 could barely breathe<b>, </b>crushing me against <b>the </b>steady thunder of his heart.


    <b>“</b>Francesco-”


    He silenced me with his mouth.


    The kiss wasn’t gentle.


    11:14 Thu, 28 Aug A


    DAN


    It was rough, desperate–like a man starved, like a wolf who had almost lost his mate.


    His lips devoured mine, his teeth nipped hard enough to sting, his breath ragged and uneven as though he had been holding it the entire time. “God, Eine,” he groaned between kisses, his voice breaking against my mouth. “When I saw you there–1 thought I was toote–I thought Hot you


    He kissed me again, deeper, harder, until my knees gave out and I clutched at his shirt for bnce.


    He didn’t give me a chance to speak, to soothe. Instead, he lifted me with a growl and carried me to the bed,ying me down only to follow, his body covering minepletely, pinning me to the mattress with the sheer force of his need.


    I gasped, trembling under the intensity in his eyes.


    This wasn’t the calcted Alpha the world knew. This was raw, unguarded Francesco–the man and the wolf both desperate to hold me, to feel me, to remind themselves I was still here.


    And when his hands slid down my body, rough and shaking, tearing at the damp fabric clinging to me, I understood-


    He wasn’t angry at me.


    He was terrified.


    18