VANESSA
My heart hammered against my ribs as Roman strode toward us through the crowd. Each step he took felt like a countdown to disaster.
"Wesley, please," I begged, my fingers digging into his arm. "Get me out of here."
Wesley's eyes narrowed as he spotted Roman approaching. "Stay behind me," he murmured, turning to face the advancing Alpha.
I didn't have time to respond before Roman reached us, his golden-brown eyes burning with an intensity that made my knees weak. Six years hadn't dimmed the power of his presence—if anything, he seemed more commanding, more dangerous.
"Ruby," he said, his voice rough with emotion. "It's really you."
"My name is Vanessa," I replied, hating the tremor in my voice. "You're mistaken, Alpha Vance."
His jaw tightened. "Don't play games. I'd recognize you anywhere—your scent, your eyes." His gaze dropped briefly to my eyebrow where I knew my small scar still marked me. "How is this possible? Everyone believed you were dead."
