LOGINMILLIE’S POVMy hands were shaking so hard I thought the paper would tear. Every word on the marriage deed felt like a brand on my skin. This wasn't a standard marriage contract; it was a covenant of protection, written by a woman who knew the world was dangerous and a father—Braham’s father—who didn't trust the man his fellow wolf’s daughter had chosen."Listen to this," I choked out, my voice thick with the salt of my tears. " 'In the event of the death of one partner, the surviving spouse shall enter a period of mourning for no less than three and a half years. During this time, they shall not enter into a new romantic union or contract of marriage.'”I looked at the bed we had just moved. "They were together within months… and got married in a year and a few months. He didn't even wait for the grass to grow on her grave."I turned the page, my heart feeling like it was being shredded. " 'If one partner is found to have committed adultery, the marriage is dissolved immediately ex
BRAHAM’S POVThe master bedroom was a testament to Raphael Harvey’s cowardice and Sabrina’s ego.The walls had been repainted a soft, sickly cream, and the heavy velvet curtains that June had loved according to the little Millie could remember were gone, replaced by light, airy silks. It was a room designed to forget the dead. As I stepped over the threshold, the scent of the room hit my wolf senses like a physical blow—Raphael’s lingering scent of expensive tobacco and fear, mixed with the cloying, synthetic musk Sabrina used to mask her true nature.They had slept here. They had celebrated here while June’s daughter grew up down the hall, oblivious to the blood on the sheets.Millie was already in the ensuite bathroom, her sneakers walking frantically on the marble as she tapped on the tiles. "Help me search, Braham! The key said bedroom, it has to be here!"Renan who got here earlier stood by the door, his eyes scanning the room with tactical detachment. "We’ve searched the walls,
MILLIE’S POVThe silence in our bedroom was suffocating. It was the kind of heavy, pressurized quiet that made my ears ring.I sat on the edge of the mattress, the "last letter" from my mother clutched in my hands. Beside it, spread out like pieces of a broken mirror, were the older files we had recovered months ago—her first letter and the warnings from her friends Eleanor and Margaret. I stared at them until the words began to swim."Something happened to her mind, Braham," I whispered, my voice sounding brittle and thin. "In these first letters from early 2004, she was a detective. She was tracking Sabrina’s movements, noting the amounts she gave her, and documenting the affair with Raphael. She was so close to casting them out. She was sharp. She was sure."I smoothed the last letter with a trembling thumb, my heart aching for the woman who wrote it."But in this one... the one she wrote right before she died at St. Catherine’s... she sounded like she was second-guessing her own s
MILLIE’S POVThe cream-colored envelope sat on the coffee table like a live grenade. We had gathered in the living room—Braham, Callie, Renan, and me—but the air felt tight, suffocating. Upstairs, Leo was asleep, the only innocent thing left in this house.My hands wouldn't stop shaking. Every time I looked at my mother’s elegant script, I saw the four-year-old version of myself, oblivious and crying in a hospital chair while the woman I loved most in the world was writing her final goodbye."I can't," I whispered, the words catching in my dry throat. I pushed the stationery toward Braham. "I can't read it. If I look at the ink, I’ll see her dying. Please."Braham didn't hesitate. He sat beside me, his large, warm hand covering mine for a second before he picked up the pages. His voice was deep, a steady anchor in the storm of my mind, as he began to read her words aloud.“My dearest Millie-Rose...”As Braham read about her love for me, a sob escaped my throat that I couldn’t choke ba
JUNE’S POVMay 17th, 2004 St. Catherine’s Medical CenterMy hands trembled as I tried to hold the pen steady. The simple act of writing had become nearly impossible—my body was failing, shutting down piece by piece, and I knew I didn't have much time left.But I had to do this. For Millie.The private room was quiet except for the steady beep of monitors tracking my deteriorating vitals. Raphael had just left to take Millie home for the night. My sweet baby girl, only four years old, had cried herself to sleep in the chair beside my bed earlier. She didn't understand why Mommy couldn't come home. Why Mommy kept getting weaker.I didn't understand either. Not fully. But I had my suspicions, and I needed to make sure Millie knew the truth when she was old enough to handle it.I pulled out the cream-colored stationery I’d asked Edna to bring me—one of the few things I could still trust in this place. Edna, my night nurse, had been a godsend these past weeks. Kind, competent, and most im
MILLIE'S POV The Correctional Facility looked even more depressing in January than it was the last time I visited my dad. Gray concrete walls. Chain-link fences topped with razor wire. Guard towers looming against an overcast sky. Everything about the place radiated bleakness and regret. Braham pulled into the visitor parking lot and cut the engine. "You sure about this?" "No. But I'm doing it anyway. He’d been begging to see me before Martha’s tragedy so I think I should visit him now instead of waiting for Martha to wake up first." We'd left Leo with Callie and Renan, telling him we had boring grown-up errands. Christmas had been perfect—Leo's joy at his presents, the proposal that had surprised me even though I'd suspected something, the warmth of family. But my father's letters had sat in my drawer the entire time, waiting. And finally, I'd decided I needed answers before I could truly move forward. We went through security—metal detectors, bag checks, IDs verified.
ROY’s POVThe drive home from the Council building was silent as death.I sat in the back seat of my father's car, Vivian beside me staring out the window with tears streaming down her face. Our father drove, his hands gripping the wheel so tightly his knuckles were white.No one spoke. No one dare
BRAHAM'S POVThe Council chamber fell silent when Renan and I walked back in.Every head turned. Every conversation stopped.Volkov stood at his position, looking relieved and confused in equal measure. "Alpha King Gothan. We didn't expect you to return.""Neither did I," I admitted. "But my Beta m
BRAHAM'S POVI made it to the parking lot before Renan caught up to me."Braham! Stop!"I kept walking toward my car, my hands shaking with barely contained rage."Braham, please. Just stop for a second."I stopped, but didn't turn around. "What, Renan?""What the hell was that?" He came around to
ROY'S POVThis couldn't be happening.I sat frozen in my seat, watching Braham set down his ring, my mind refusing to process what I was seeing. The golden ring plated with real crystal and a shiny emerald on top sat on the table like an accusation, catching the light from the chamber's overhead f







