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Silence.

I glance at a small, dusty shelf against the wall. A single ceramic mug sits there, a hairline crack running through its rim. There’s something about the sight of it – so lonely, so fragile – that makes my stomach twist.

She’s been alone here.

Too alone. But for how long? That’s the question…and it has my alpha all riled up and tied in knots.

I step into the kitchen, my hands clenching at my sides. The sink is empty, the counters scrubbed clean but worn down. A dented kettle sits on the stove, and the fridge hums faintly in the silence.

I pull it open and glance inside. There’s barely any food.

A single chair is pulled out at the small wooden table, like she’s sat there night after night, eating alone.

I exhale slowly, trying to push past the burning urge tofixthis. To grab her, carry her out of here, and take her somewhere warm, somewhere safe.

Somewhere she doesn’t have to fight just to exist.

Blaise’s patience snaps. He steps into the main room, his voice sharper now.

“Eviana! Come out! Now!”

His alpha voice – a barking command – slips out, raw with the need to claim.

I feel the growl build in my own chest in response, but I shove it down. We can’t scare her.

Not again.

But then, I feel it.

That shift in the air.

The pull. The response.

My body tenses as I take another step forward, anticipation crackling in the room.

She’s close. Iknowshe is.

And this time, we’re not leaving without her.

EVIANA

Ican hear them.

I can hear them the moment they step inside the house, their heavy boots making those familiar thuds against the floorboards, the low rumble of their voices in the hallway. But it’s Blaise’s command that hits me hardest.

“Eviana!” he calls, his voice rough and demanding. The growl in it sends a shiver down my spine, and for a split second, I almost freeze, my body betraying me.

I can’t do this. I can’t let them see me like this.

Panic floods my veins. I can’t stay here, can’t let them get any closer. I need to get away. I need to hide.

Without thinking, I spring into motion, my heart racing, my feet scrambling across the floor. I don’t even glance back – I just run.

The sound of my footfalls is drowned out by their voices as they shout for me, but I don’t care. I’m already past the kitchen, through the hallway, and out the back door before I can stop myself. The storm outside hits me like a slap, rain whipping across my face, but I don’t slow down. I just keep running, pushing myself harder, faster.

It’s ridiculous. I know it’s ridiculous. But the fear, the need to get away from them, pushes me harder than I thought I was capable of. And somewhere in the back of my mind, my omega is howling to give in, to let them catch me, to stop running.

But I can’t.