Helena's POV
After practically shoving Asher out of my room, I collapse onto the bed and stare up at the plain white ceiling. The mysterious box sits hidden in the darkest corner of my closet, where prying eyes won't find it. I squeeze my eyes shut and rack my brain for possible combinations. Four numbers that could unlock whatever secrets lie inside.
My birthday yielded nothing. Neither did my father's. The lock remained stubbornly sealed.
I should give up for tonight, but something draws me toward the door. My hand hovers over the lock, yet instead of securing it, I find myself stepping into the hallway. The pack house feels eerily silent, and sneaking through these corridors after dark seems like asking for trouble. Still, an invisible force pulls me forward, guiding my steps toward the exit.
