DEREKThe envelope was waiting for me when I returned to my office, a plain, unmarked thing sitting at the center of my desk.I had been expecting reports from my intelligence network, updates on the rogue factions, or perhaps another denial from Moonstone about a pre-summit meeting. But this was so
ELENAThere were a dozen things I was supposed to be focusing on—logistics for the Alliance Summit, reviewing proposals from nearby packs, scheduling site visits for infrastructure coordination—but my mind kept circling back to one thing.Mason.More specifically, Mason’s absence.He’d been disappea
“Is Logan coming to the wedding?” she asked casually.I exhaled. “He’s… busy. Alliance Summit and all that.”I really didn’t want to field more questions about Logan and our “upcoming” nuptials.Her brow lifted, but she let it go. “Well, I was going through old letters the other day and guess what I
DEREKBrock didn’t say a word when he walked into my office. He didn’t have to. The envelope in his hand was enough.“Is that it?” I asked.He nodded and laid it gently on the desk between us. A plain white envelope. No return address. No markings. Just my name scrawled across the front in blocky, d
I stared out the window, watching the trees blur past as the vehicle climbed the last ridge. With every mile, the plan sharpened in my mind. Elena’s father had rejected my proposal to meet before the Alliance Summit.Mason hadn’t even bothered to respond. But a face-to-face meeting couldn’t be ignor
DEREKThe Moonstone estate’s main number rang four times before someone finally picked up.“Moonstone Residence!” a small voice chirped. “Who is this?”I blinked. “Who is this?”“I asked first,” the kid replied, then paused dramatically. “And since it’s our house phone, I win.”A grin tugged at my m
I couldn’t help but smile. “You too. And hey—take care of her alright?”“I always do.”He hung up without waiting for a goodbye, and I found myself staring at the phone in my hand long after the line had gone dead.It was too easy to picture him. Too easy to hear our bond in his laugh.I pushed to m
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 grew angrier the more I talked.“You gave me a heartbeat on a monitor and a false sense of fatherhood. And then, when you knew the walls were closing in, you faked a miscarriage to seal the story. You didn't just lie—you tried to break me.”Tears welled in her eyes, but I kept going.“I mourned a
DEREKThe cemetery was quiet.The kind of quiet that settled into your bones, that made your thoughts louder, your memories sharper.I stood alone, one hand tucked into my coat pocket, the other wrapped around the slim stem of a white chrysanthemum. It was early—too early for mourners or caretakers.
Amy’s voice was small now. “I believe so.”I set the glass down with a soft clink. “Pour the full glass.”She did.“Now decant the rest,” I said. “I’ve lost my appetite for food. But I’ll be staying to enjoy the bottle.”Amy said nothing. She bowed slightly and stepped away to fetch the decanter.Th
DEREKI didn’t stop for the cameras.They flared like tiny suns as I stepped out of the black SUV, their shutters clicking rapid-fire.Flashes bounced off the platinum buttons of my coat, off the trim of my collar, illuminating the sidewalk in sharp, artificial bursts. I walked straight through the
The temperature in the room shifted.Not dramatically, but enough. Like a subtle drop in pressure before a storm. Erin straightened, her laughter tapering. I smoothed the sample fabric in front of me and didn’t look up right away.“Hey,” Logan said casually. “What’s so funny?”Erin glanced at me. “J
ELENAThe Moonstone packhouse was a flurry of motion and color. Fabric swatches fluttered like flags in a breeze as pack members carried bolts of cloth up the stairs. Someone was arguing loudly in the hall about whether “frosted lilac” was different from “lavender fog,” and a delivery of beeswax can
ELENAThe metronome was ticking again.That steady, deliberate rhythm that Dr. Voss insisted helped center my recall—though half the time, I wasn’t sure if it helped or just made me hyper-aware of how fast my thoughts were spinning.I sat back in the reclined chair, palms resting against the fabric-
“A silver claw?”I nodded. “Yeah. The first. The only. It seared his flesh every time he used it. Every swing hurt. But he used it anyway.”“That sounds… awful.”“It was,” I said. “But he made that pain his purpose. Every battle, every fight he walked into—he carried the silver claw. And with it, he
DEREKThe room still smelled like fresh paint.The new bedding hadn’t quite lost its store scent either—crisp fabric, a little too new, the faint chemical undertone of being unboxed that morning.But it didn’t matter. Aiden was already halfway under the covers, head turned toward the window, blanket