Claire's P.O.V.
The moment I sent the message to Bella—"Keep Caleb out of his room. I need time."—I didn’t wait for her reply. I tucked my phone into the pocket of my jeans, inhaled deeply, and started up the grand staircase of the pack house.
It was late evening, and the sun had already set long ago, casting dark shadows through the windows. The corridors were quiet—eerily so. Only the muffled laughter of pups playing outside filtered in through the thick glass. The house seemed to sense my purpose and hushed in response. As I neared Caleb’s room, I felt it—the shift. The drop in warmth, the slight tingle in the air, like static clinging to the skin. There was energy here, unnatural and thick.
I stood at his door, fingers hovering over the knob for a beat too long. The aura around the
