The engines purred beneath Aria's feet like a living thing.
She sat rigidly in the back seat of Damien's armored car, hands clenched in her lap, every sense stretched thin. The mansion vanished behind them as iron gates slid shut with a final, echoing clang. Guards bowed as the vehicle passed. No lights. No sirens. Just the steady hum of power moving unseen through the night.
Damien sat beside her, close but not touching.
He had changed his shirt. Not because of the blood. Blood never bothered him. But because it reminded him of how close she had come to dying.
"You're certain this is necessary," Aria said quietly.
"Yes."
No hesitation. No softening.
The word settled in her bones.
She looked out the tinted window. The city lights thinned, then disappeared altogether, swallowed by forest and open land. Her wolf pressed against her consciousness, restless, alert, like it recognized the direction they were heading.
"Where are we going?" she asked.
