Chapter 142: The Tension of Choices
The moon hovered low that night, swollen and golden, like it was eavesdropping on the chaos brooding inside the Crimson Fang packhouse. Walls that once held centuries of Alpha traditions now quivered under the weight of a war no one could yet name. A war of hearts, instincts, and broken promises.
Selene stood on the balcony, wind tousling her dark curls, arms folded tightly over her chest. From this vantage, she could see the training grounds, the outer borders of the estate—and somewhere far in the distance, the scent trail where Alpha Caelum had last run. She hadn't seen him since the confrontation earlier. Not in person. But she could feel him everywhere—his power echoed in the stone, in the air, in the way her skin burned whenever she remembered the look in his eyes.
Behind her, the sliding door creaked open.
"Selene," came Darius' voice—calm, too calm.
She didn't turn. "If you're here to tell me to apologize, save your breath."
