Cameron doesn’t tell me where we’re going.That should worry me.Instead, it makes my pulse skip in that soft, reckless way it does when he looks at me like I’m not just his Luna, but something chosen. Something kept.We leave the main courtyard through the eastern gate, past the training grounds where the scent of sweat and iron still lingers in the air. The afternoon has mellowed into that golden hour light that makes everything look almost forgiving.“Are you going to tell me,” I ask as we follow a narrow forest path, “or are you enjoying the mystery?”He glances over his shoulder, one corner of his mouth lifting. “You don’t like mystery?”“I like control.”He laughs under his breath. “I know.”The path grows thinner the deeper we go. Pine needles soften our steps. The air changes - cooler, cleaner, threaded with damp earth and moss. My wolf stirs, restless but not alarmed. Curious.“This isn’t far from the old boundary line.” I note.“Not anymore.” he says quietly.Something in hi
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