After His Daughter's Death, He Went Crazy
That night, Liam served me my usual evening tea. I trusted him completely—he was my mate, after all, and a respected healer of Thornpack.
I shouldn't have.
When I woke up the next morning, my head was spinning. The special safe where I kept the morphing inhibitor—the one I'd spent my entire savings to import from Europe for our daughter Isla—was empty.
Racing to the healing center, I found Liam celebrating. He was handing out moon-blessed wine, beaming with pride as Natalie's daughter Anna showed off her perfect transformation. My inhibitor had been used on his first love's pup instead of our own daughter.
The shock triggered something in my brain. When I collapsed, they diagnosed me wit