Chapter 258

• Leah's POV
• The moon hung low that night, its crimson glare spilling over Redwood Mansion like a wound torn open in the sky. I stood before it, breath fogging in the chilled air, my boots sinking into the cracked earth where grandeur once reigned. The luxurious manor where my grandfather had held court was a husk now, its walls sagging, its windows blind and gaping. Yet the murals - those gorgeous, sprawling tales of Lycan triumph - clung to the stone, and the carved beams overhead still bore the weight of forgotten glory. A ache bloomed in my chest, sharp and unbidden, not for the place itself, but for the blood that tied me to it, the lineage crumbling like the house before me.
• A werewolf guard shifted in the shadows, his eyes catching the moonlight as he tracked my approach. He stepped forward, then froze, nostrils flaring as the Lycan aura rolled off me - thick, primal, a warning stitched into my bones. His gaze dropped, and he shrank back, a mutt knowing its place. I didn’t spare him a glance. My pulse thrummed, a war drum calling me deeper, pulling me toward Leo.