IRIS’S POVThe ascent to the northern peak was a grueling test of iron and nerves. The armored van groaned as it climbed the narrow, crumbling switchbacks, the engine straining against the altitude. Beside me, Darius drove with a clinical, focused intensity. He didn’t have his wolf’s heightened senses to warn him of a landslide or an ambush, but he had something else—a raw, human grit that seemed to sharpen with every mile."You’re white-knuckling the wheel, Darius," I said softly, trying to break the suffocating tension. "If you snap that plastic, we’re definitely not making the three-hour window.""Just making sure the steering column knows who’s in charge," he countered, though his jaw remained a hard line of granite. He glanced at the countdown on the dash: 00:42:12. "Besides, I’m an accountant’s husband now. I have to be careful with the overhead.""Sarcasm is a great coping mechanism, but your pulse is visible in your neck," I noted, my own heart doing a frantic dance against my
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