Hope

I pace the floor, my palms damp. My chest is tight, and every creak of the floorboards makes me jolt.

I hate this—waiting while Keith and Papa are out there meeting Camille.

I glance at the clock. The hands barely move. “Come on,” I mutter under my breath. My stomach twists.

This anxiety I feel makes me thankful Tessa and Ben are out on a date night, otherwise, I’d have a lot of explaining to do.

My wolf paces beneath my skin, wondering what is taking her mate so long

I sit on the edge of the bed trying to calm myself, but my legs bounce. I rise again,...