The familiar scent of damp earth and distant pine needles filled Daniella's lungs as she crossed the Huntstown border. The old, weathered 'Welcome to Huntstown!' sign, its yellow lettering faded, seemed to mock her carefully constructed distance. Beside her, Beau let out a whoop, rolling down the window and letting the cool air whip through their hair.

"I love the wind blowing through my hair!" he screamed, catching the attention of a few locals as they drove past the familiar storefronts.

Daniella offered a weak smile, her gaze fixed on the road ahead. The mix of Crescent and Stone pack scents, once a comforting embrace, now felt like a tight knot in her stomach. Every mile closer brought a fresh wave of anxiety. Weston. His name, a silent echo, caused a familiar ache in her chest. She had left Huntstown to escape the pain, to understand the strange, rare werewolf she had become. But her mother's desperate call had pulled her back, and with it, the ghosts of a life she'd tried to forget. She gripped the car seat, her knuckles white, bracing herself for the inevitable reunion.