AUTHOR'S POV

Tessa stood frozen, her knife still pointed at him, her breath caught in her throat as she stared into the eyes of Fenrir. His gaze was anything but friendly and it made her nervous. The tension in the air was palpable, each moment stretched taut like a bowstring ready to snap. Tessa knew she was treading on dangerous ground.

Her grip tightened on the hilt of her knife, her knuckles white while Fenrir mirrored her stance clearly aware that he was dealing with an amateur ㅡ they were caught in a deadly dance neither willing to lower their weapons.

For what seemed like an eternity, they stood there...