55: Maybe just maybe

Elaine’s POV

I pulled into the garage, the sleek, black car gliding smoothly into the designated spot. The engine’s low hum faded, leaving a heavy silence that filled the space. I gripped the steering wheel, staring ahead at the blank wall, trying to steady my nerves.

For a long time, I just sat there, the weight of my new reality pressing down on me. I might be the most powerful werewolf now, but that didn’t erase the anxiety gnawing at my gut.

My first day here had been a nightmare—judgmental glares, whispered accusations, and the ever-present tension of being viewed as an outsider, a murderer.

I took a deep breath, the scent of leather and the faint lingering aroma of cologne grounding me. My fingers drummed nervously against the wheel.

“You can do this,” I muttered to myself. The words felt hollow, but they were something—a small push to get me moving.

Finally, I opened the car door and stepped out, my boots echoing against the concrete floor. I grabbed my bag from the passenge