Chapter 83
Cameron
Well, shit.
I stand by the floor-to-ceiling windows, watching the city lights blur into constellations of gold and white against the night. The skyline usually calms me—orderly, predictable, built by human hands with purpose. Tonight it feels like chaos dressed up in glass and steel.
I rub both hands over my face, trying to clear the noise in my head.
Whitestone.
Starving wolves. Collapsing houses. Vampires prowling at their borders. A so-called mercenary pack bleeding them dry. And in the middle of it all… a vacuum of leadership.
And then the kicker: they want me.
Me. The outsider. The half-human businessman who spent three decades ignorant of his own blood. The one who only stumbled into this world because of fate's cruel sense of humor.
I scoff under my breath.
