The Alpha King's Hated Mate
A thin blanket was folded over the backrest, and the coffee table was cluttered with unopened mail and a dusty photo frame flipped facedown.
"Please, sit. I can make coffee—"
"It’s fine," Xander said gently. "We’re not here for coffee. We just want to know what happened. That night."
Regina flinched like the words struck her physically. She nodded once, hugging her arms around herself as she walked around to the chair opposite us and slowly sank into it. Her shoulders curled inward like she was trying to make herself smaller.
The silence that fell was thick. I could hear the soft tick of a wall clock in the kitchen and the hum of the old refrigerator. I held my breath, bracing myself.