登入Serena’s POV I had never seen Dominic look so lost. He was always controlled. Even when he was angry, he seemed to know exactly what he wanted to do. But now he stood in the middle of the hall, staring at the dead speaker as if a ghost had reached through it and taken something from him. I understood that feeling. My father was alive. Or someone wanted me to believe he was. Every time I thought about seeing him, fear and hope collided inside me. I wanted to ask him why he had left me. Why my mother had died. Why I had grown up believing I was alone. But I was also afraid that when I finally found him, I would discover that the man in the recording was only another person hiding the truth. Dominic looked at the speaker again. "Sixteen years," he murmured. I moved closer. "What?" "Sixteen years of visiting that grave. Sixteen years of believing I knew how he died." His voice sounded distant. "And now someone expects me to walk into a memorial because they p
Dominic’s POV "My son." I had imagined hearing that voice a thousand times after his death. In dreams, he had stood in the old library, correcting my decisions. In nightmares, he had accused me of failing the family. Sometimes, I remembered him laughing, his large hand resting on my shoulder as he told me that one day the entire territory would belong to me. But I had never imagined hearing him again. Not like this. Not through the security speakers of my own home. "Come home." The words echoed through the dark lodge. For a moment, I couldn't breathe. My wolf stirred violently beneath my skin, pacing inside my chest as though it had recognized something my mind refused to accept. That is him. I stared at the speaker above the doorway. Sixteen years. Sixteen years since I had stood beside a closed coffin and watched the earth swallow the only father I had ever known. Sixteen years since I had taken responsibility for the Blackwood territory, buried my grief
Dominic’s POV I read the message three times. **YOUR FATHER DID NOT DIE THE WAY YOU WERE TOLD.** **AND SERENA'S FATHER IS NOT THE ONLY ONE WHO SURVIVED.** The words remained on my screen, but my mind had already travelled somewhere else. To the night my father died. I remembered the storm. The smell of burning wood. The guards running through the estate. The explosion that had destroyed the western wing. I remembered standing beside his coffin, staring at a closed lid because the damage had been too severe for anyone to identify the body. I had been twenty-three. Young enough to believe that grief was something a person could survive by becoming harder. Old enough to know that I had inherited a territory full of enemies. My father's death had been declared an accident. A gas explosion in the old estate's underground storage rooms. There had been an investigation. Witness statements. A funeral. And a body. At least, that was what I had been told. I looked at Evelyne
Serena’s POV The journey back to the lodge felt longer than the journey to the ruins. Perhaps because I was carrying too many answers. Or perhaps because every answer had opened another question. My father's voice kept replaying in my head. My little girl. I had spent years wondering whether he had abandoned me. Whether he had been weak. Whether he had chosen his own survival over mine. Now I knew he was alive. And I didn't know whether to feel relieved or furious. I looked down at the photograph resting in my lap. My mother was smiling at the camera, her cheek pressed against my father's shoulder. I was between them, holding a wooden wolf. They looked like a family that had never known fear. "Do you think he really is alive?" I whispered. Marcus glanced at me from the driver's seat. "Your father's recording sounded genuine." "But it could have been made years ago." "That's possible." "And that man said he had seen him." Marcus tightened his hands around the steerin
**Dominic’s POV** I had spent the last hour pretending to listen to Evelyne. We were in the western lodge’s private library, the one lined with dark oak shelves and floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the misty pine forest. Morning light filtered through the glass in pale gold shafts, illuminating dust motes that danced like tiny spirits. A fire crackled softly in the hearth, but its warmth did nothing to thaw the ice settling in my chest. Evelyne sat across from me in the deep leather armchair, cradling a cup of chamomile tea between her slender hands. Her voice was soft, almost distant, as she spoke of the sanctuary where she had been held for sixteen years. “The cold was the worst,” she murmured, staring into her tea. “Not the kind that freezes your skin, but the kind that settles deep in your bones and never leaves. The walls were white. Everything was white. Sometimes I wondered if they chose that color so we would forget what real life looked like.” She took a slo
Serena's POV Dressed in a dark coat. Marcus. Relief rushed through me, but it lasted only a second. His expression was grim. "Serena." "What happened?" He stepped into the laboratory, scanning the room. "I found the access road blocked. Someone had placed explosives near the entrance." My stomach dropped. "Explosives?" "They were old, but recently activated. I managed to disable them." "Was anyone there?" "Not when I arrived." He looked at the recording device in my hand. "What did you find?" I hesitated. "My father's laboratory. His recording. He's alive." Marcus went completely still. "Your father?" I nodded. "He left a message. He said Caleb Voss betrayed my parents." Marcus's jaw tightened. "Are you certain?" "I heard his voice. I saw the files." Marcus moved toward the central table. "Then we need to get Dominic." "No." His eyes met mine. "Serena—" "I came here to find answers, Marcus. Not to be taken back to the lodge e







