Nicholas’s POV
I stepped out of the shower, water still dripping from my hair and running down my back. The steam in the bathroom clung to the mirrors, blurring everything into a hazy fog. I grabbed a towel from the rack and wrapped it around my waist, letting out a long breath.
The hot water had done nothing to wash away the tension knotted in my shoulders. If anything, it had given me too much time to think—about the vial sitting locked in a safe, about Hazel’s mark on my neck, about how everything was unraveling faster than I could control.
I wiped a hand across the mirror, clearing a streak of fog, and stared at my reflection. The bite mark was still there—fresh, raised, a perfect crescent of teeth that made my wolf preen every time I looked at it. But the man staring back? He look
