Paul's pov
The quiet of the warehouse was unnerving. A hollow wind howled faintly outside, slipping through the cracks of the rusted metal walls, while the dim yellow light of a flickering bulb overhead cast sharp shadows on the ground. I paced back and forth, the sound of my boots echoing in the empty space like a ticking clock counting down to something inevitable. Stella sat in front of me, bound to a chair with thick ropes I'd pulled from the trunk of my car. She didn't struggle. She didn't flinch. She simply stared down at the floor, her dark hair hanging over her face, shadowing her expression.
I could feel my wolf pacing inside me too,its presence more potent now, clawing at the edges of my control. The beast was furious, vibrating with raw energy, demanding to take over.
She attacked our mate! my wolf roared in my head, its growl rattling through me like a drumbeat.
Pecan could have died. You let that woman,your son's lover,breathe, while our true mate is suffering.
