Milo Greer stepped out of the Shaw Pack’s meeting, the heavy weight of the discussion still lingering in the air. He ran a hand through his hair, his mind already drifting back to the concerns the pack had raised. He wasn’t expecting anything out of the ordinary, but then his gaze drifted across the territory.

A figure, moving with deliberate calm, caught his attention. It was her—the new neighbor, or at least that’s what he’d heard. She was walking slowly, her gaze fixed ahead, not a single glance in his direction, nor at any of the pack members scattered nearby.

Milo’s eyes narrowed, instinct prickling at the back of his mind. There was something off about the way she moved, a sense of purpose in each step. She didn’t seem interested in the pack, didn’t seem to acknowledge the presence of anything around her, as if she was in her own world. That alone made Milo uneasy.

He took a slow step forward, his posture casual, though his senses were sharp. He was good at reading people, and the woman’s composure, her quiet defiance of the pack’s territory, had a strange tension to it.

Was she lost? Or was there something more to her, something hidden behind those unreadable strides?

Milo shifted his weight, adjusting his stance. If she was going to be a part of this world, he’d find out sooner rather than later. For now, he stayed back, but his eyes followed her every move as she continued walking—quiet, untouchable, and seemingly unaware of the quiet storm she was beginning to stir.