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The Turning Point

Rain pelts my broken body as consciousness fades in and out. Each breath is agony, my ribs screaming in protest. Through blurred vision, I see Callum's face above me, his features twisted in anguish. Blood—my blood—mingles with rainwater on the cobblestones beneath me.

"Stay with me, Olivia," he pleads, his voice breaking. "Please, just stay with me."

I try to speak, but only manage a wet cough. The metallic taste of blood fills my mouth. Somewhere in the distance, sirens wail. The sounds seem to come from underwater, growing fainter with each passing second.

Memories flash before my eyes like a broken film reel. The jewelry store window. The blonde woman beside Callum. My accusations thrown like daggers. The hurt in his amber eyes when I confessed to meeting James. Then chaos—fur and fangs and blood as rival wolves descended upon us.

"She has minutes at most, Alpha." Fiona's voice cuts through the haze. Her usual fierce demeanor cracks as she kneels beside us. "You know what needs to
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