Gotham pulsed beneath her heels—wet streets, broken promises, the scent of rain clinging to alley walls like regret. Selina moved through it all like smoke, too sharp to be touched, too soft to be caught. But tonight wasn’t about theft. Not jewels, not secrets. Tonight was about instinct.

The bond itched under her skin—subtle, constant, maddening. She hated feeling tethered to anything, anyone. But that’s what fate had done, hadn’t it? Twisted her sleek independence into something primal. Something longing.

She was an Alpha. Unclaimed by choice. Untouchable by reputation. Except by one.

Her scent still lingered in her sheets. On her skin. In her throat like a ghost she couldn’t exhale.

Selina perched on a rooftop, eyes scanning the city, claws glinting under moonlight. She’d never admit it out loud, but she wasn’t hunting tonight.

She was waiting.

And if she didn’t come to her soon…

She’d go find her.