Helena's POV
The corridor beyond Patrick's door reeks of stale alcohol and smoke from the nightclub downstairs. My bare soles stick to the grimy floor with each step, and I force myself not to wonder what substances coat the surface as I chase after Asher. Patrick's oversized shirt billows around my frame, the fabric barely covering my thighs, but modesty is the last thing on my mind right now. All that matters is reaching him before it's too late.
"Asher!" My desperate call bounces off the narrow walls. "Stop running from me!"
But he doesn't slow down. The gentle, loyal companion who once stood faithfully at my side has vanished. In his place stalks something wild and dangerous, his wolf barely contained beneath human skin. His powerful frame cuts through the space between us with predatory grace, every muscle coiled tight with barely restrained violence.
