It had to happen eventually.
I’ve spent too long hiding in the shadows, pretending that I don’t notice the SUV or the dark sedan, pretending I don’t feel eyes on my back every time I walk home from the diner. But pretending only works for so long.
They’re getting bolder now. They’re not just watching — they’re testing me.
For three nights in a row, the SUV stops closer and closer to my apartment building. I’ve caught flashes of a figure leaning on the hood, arms crossed, face hidden by the hood of a jacket. They don’t speak. They don’t move much. They just… watch.
The air feels wrong, heavy. My wolf paces inside me, restless, angry.
“Enough.” She growls. “We face them.”
And maybe she’s right. Running hasn’t stopped them.
I make my decision that night.
It starts with a plan.
I chan
