Clarissa
The private jet touched down on White Moon Pack's airstrip, and my stomach lurched as if we'd hit turbulence.
I'd barely slept during the three-hour flight, my mind racing through worst-case scenarios.
As the engines wound down, I gathered my things with hands that trembled slightly despite my efforts to stay calm. Still no word from Lyla. Still no way to reach Ramsey or anyone else in their group.
Through the small window, I could see a convoy of black SUVs waiting near the hangar. White Moon Pack's security was legendary, and seeing them in action should have been reassuring. Instead, it only reminded me of how vulnerable my sister was, wherever she was being held.
