Chapter 252

• Carmen sat in the passenger seat, her head bowed, dark strands of hair falling in disarray along her cheeks. Beneath them, the raw red imprint of a hand burned against her skin—an ugly mark stark against her pale complexion.
• Her fingers twisted together in her lap, knuckles whitening with the tension. Every so often she dared a glance at Duke, hands steady on the wheel, eyes fixed on the road ahead. She parted her lips to speak more than once but closed them again, the words crumbling in her throat.
• The car was so silent she could hear the hum of the engine and the faint whisper of tires against asphalt. For a wolf used to the chatter of a pack, this stillness felt suffocating. Each second seemed to stretch into an eternity. Her mind whirred, grasping for a lie—something believable—but Duke asked nothing.