Calla’s POV
The safe house was a cabin—different from the one I had been staying in before Marcus’s people took me, but similar enough to make me feel uneasy. It was in a remote area, surrounded by trees that felt more confining than comforting, like bars of a cage.
I sat on the porch steps, watching Kane’s group move about with purpose. They were tending to wounds, checking the area for any threats, and doing all the things that seemed to come naturally for a group of werewolf bikers.
“Werewolf.” The word sounded ridiculous in my mind, almost like something from a cheesy movie or a young adult novel. But I had seen Kane change into a wolf. I had watched him fight in that form. I had seen Marcus do the same. And I had also moved a car with my mind.
The memory of moving that car replay
