Evander's POV
The first thing I noticed was the sound.
Not the clatter of cutlery or the murmurs of the crowd — the shift. That silence that slithered in whenever I walked into a room.
The air always knew me first. It went still, cold, cautious.
And this time, the silence was heavier. Tainted.
Because there she was.
Odette.
Standing at the counter, frowning at some idiot who was smiling too wide at her. Six men were behind her — six — and somehow a stranger had gotten close enough to breathe the same air she did.
My eyes trailed over her first before I even looked at the fool beside her.
She was dressed properly this time, thank the gods, but it didn't help. Nothing helped. Her skin still caught the light like she was carved from it. Her hair framed her face in soft waves that made her look more delicate than she had any right to be. She looked tired, annoyed, and so painfully human that my wolf stirred at once.
