MasukHis voice was soft when he asked, “Are you mad at Daddy?”My breath caught.I didn’t answer right away. I just held him tighter, brushing my lips against the top of his head, breathing in the familiar scent of shampoo and dreams.“No, baby,” I said finally, my voice barely above a whisper. “Just sad
ELENAHe said it. Just like that."Because I was a coward."And for a moment, I didn’t breathe. Didn’t blink. I just stared at him, this towering Alpha, folded in on himself like the weight of everything he’d done was finally more than he could bear.It wasn’t what I expected. It wasn’t defensive. I
DEREKI was more nervous than I had ever been in my entire life.And that included some truly horrible moments. Moments when life and death had been in the balance.Worse than when Aiden had been in the hospital, his little body limp and pale against white sheets, machines screaming at me that I mig
ELENA"I’m strong enough to travel," I said.The words came out firmer than I expected. My voice still felt like it didn’t quite belong to me—too quiet, too dry—but I forced strength into it anyway.My mother narrowed her eyes at me across the hospital room, arms folded, posture stiff with tension.
ELENAThe first thing I felt was cold.Not the kind of cold that settled into your bones. Not the chill of snow or wind. It was sterile, dry, antiseptic. The kind of cold that came from machines humming, filtered air, fluorescent lights. A hospital.I blinked slowly, and the world came into focus in
DEREKToday was going well.Which, lately, felt like a miracle.The meeting room was warm with early sunlight, and the Stormfang delegation finally looked less like they wanted to skin me and more like they might—possibly—listen. The Icelandic pack had been guarded since our arrival, especially with
ELENAI’d barely slept the night before. My head still throbbed from the press conference, the way Derek had held my hand in front of the cameras like we were still something, like we were united. Like I wasn’t still carrying the weight of all the things inside me that he’d shattered.The shrapnel h
DEREKThe hum of the engine was the only sound filling the car. Outside, the landscape rushed by—a blur of tall grass, dense trees, and late afternoon haze. I leaned back against the seat, my hands loose in my lap, my mind anything but calm. The suit I wore itched at my throat, but I didn’t adjust t
I hesitated, then moved to the sideboard and poured another drink. He probably didn’t need it, but a controlled Derek didn’t suit my purposes. The bottle sloshed too loudly in the stillness.“Here,” I said, kneeling slightly to offer it to him.He took it without looking. Our fingers touched. No spa
DEREKThe air was too still.I sat in the backseat of the SUV, my fingers drumming absently on the leather armrest, eyes fixed on the tree line rolling past the window. Too quiet. Too green. Too ordinary. The kind of quiet that gnawed at the back of your neck, whispering that something was wrong.Jo







