I set Joseph’s phone back on the nightstand, my grip tightening around my own like a lifeline. My wolf stirred restlessly inside me, her instincts sharper than ever. The past five years confined to a wheelchair had kept her nature in check. But now? She paced back and forth, roaring, demanding to be heard.I opened my contacts and dialed. "Hello, I'd like to book a plane ticket. Departure in five days." Five days. Enough time to bury five years of lies. That night, as I lay in bed staring at the ceiling, my wolf refused to let me rest. *"You should make those bastards pay,"* she grumbled. “Not now,” I muttered under my breath. Her claws scraped against the inside of my consciousness, but she didn’t push further. The next day at lunch, my phone buzzed against the table, interrupting the strained silence. Before I could grab it, Joseph’s gaze snapped to the screen, his expression darkening. "Fiona, why are you applying to cancel your bank card?" His voice was light, but ther
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