He turned his back on her then, following Evan and Hailey into the night.
Alone in the silence, Lenora’s gaze dropped to the wreckage on the floor. Her chest heaved with fury as she bent to gather the shards, only to flinch when a sharp sting cut through her calf. She glanced down—blood ran freely from a deep gash, far worse than Hailey’s superficial wound. Her unstable lycan blood wouldn’t heal it quickly; it would fester before it closed.
Grinding her teeth, Lenora bound the injury herself, refusing to wince. She needed no one’s pity.
Her phone buzzed. Her mother’s name lit up the screen.
“Hi, Mom,” Lenora said softly, exhaustion hidden in her tone.
“Sweetheart,” her mother replied warmly, “I’ve sent you pictures of some dresses for the Mateship Ceremony. Choose one you love—we want nothing less than perfect for you.”
Lenora’s throat tightened at the excitement in her mother’s voice. She scrolled through the photos, her chest heavy.
“Mom…” she breathed, weariness leaking into her words.
Her mother’s voice softened instantly. “What is it, darling? Are you alright?”