ARIA'S POV
The man stood at the far end of the room, his tall figure casting a long shadow under the dim golden light. His face was unforgettable, not because of its strength but because of the scar.
A jagged line started at his forehead and ran down to his mouth, pulling one corner of his lips into a permanent sneer. He looked terrifying, like someone who had lived through a war and walked out more dangerous than ever.
I swallowed hard as his piercing eyes locked onto mine. His stare felt like a weight pressing down on my chest.
Slowly, he began to move, each step measured, like a predator closing in on prey. My breathing quickened, but I forced myself to stay calm.
“You’re the princess of the Griffith Pack?” His voice was rough, broken, like every word scraped his throat raw.
I
