Skye’s P.O.V.
I sat at my easel, my pencil hovering above the sketchpad as I tried to focus on the lines in front of me. The art center had always been my sanctuary, a place where I could lose myself in the quiet rhythm of drawing, shutting out the noise of the world and, more importantly, the demands of my family and my inner wolf. But tonight was different. Tonight, Lila was here.
I stole another glance at her, and my breath caught in my throat. She was focused on her painting, her brow furrowed in concentration, a small smile playing on her lips. The soft lighting of the room highlighted the delicate curve of her cheek, the way her hair fell over her shoulder. I had always thought she was beautiful, but seeing her like this, so at ease and in her element, made my heart ache in a way I
