And before I could move, she threw herself into the pool.
The splash shattered the stillness of the night, water churning violently around her as she flailed, her cries shrill and piercing.
“Help! Help me, someone!”
Her voice carried across the garden, echoing like a siren’s wail. And there I stood, frozen at the edge of the water, my heart pounding as the weight of her deceit crashed down upon me.
Nyra’s shrill cries split the night like a wounded wolf’s howl, shattering the moonlit garden and pulling the entire pack to the poolside. Gasps of shock replaced the low hum of chatter as every eye widened at the scene.
Without hesitation, Alpha Alaric tore off his jacket, his wolf surging. He plunged into the pool, slicing through the icy water with lethal precision, every stroke driven by raw desperation. He reached Nyra in powerful swipes, scooping her trembling form into his arms like the most prized treasure of the Silverfang Pack.
Water poured from her gown as he lifted her out, his hold fierce yet careful. “Nyra, are you hurt? Tell me you’re all right!” His golden eyes, once my sanctuary, scanned her face with frantic devotion.