~Elara’s POV ~
I couldn’t shake the guilt that had planted itself in my chest since the night with the rogue. Damien had leapt in front of me, his wolf ripping into the beast without a moment’s hesitation, and all I’d done was follow Julian out.
I’d convinced myself it was the right move—keeping Damien at a distance, not letting him believe I still cared.
But I couldn’t shake the image of his bloody matted fur, his gray eyes staring into mine as he struggled to save me. It dined on me, a silent pang that I couldn’t repress no matter what I did.
I’d spent that evening holed up in my room, pacing the frayed wooden floor, trying to understand what it all meant. The hostel was typically filled with chatter and laughter, but tonight, it was too quiet — too still. Then, a muffled shout pierced the silence, and the sound of hurried footsteps echoed up the stairwell. My stomach twisted. Something was wrong. I found a sweater dashed out of my room, my bare feet padding the cold floor, and
