76
Noah's pov
I stormed away from Pecan, frustration clawing at my chest. I hated how raw our conversation had left me. It was like every word we exchanged added another crack to the fragile foundation of our friendship. My anger wasn't just at her,it was at everything. At Paul. At the mate bond. At Stella.
But mostly, at myself.
I took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm raging inside me as I walked back toward the commotion in the living room. Voices rose and fell in frantic bursts, and my pulse quickened. When I reached the doorway, the sight before me stopped me in my tracks.
Stella.
She was lying on the couch, her skin pale, almost ghostly, against the blood staining her clothes. Her dark hair was matted with dirt and dried blood, and her breathing was shallow, barely there.
I froze.
"What the hell happened to her?" My voice came out sharper than I intended, and every head in the room turned toward me.
