They were left in the quiet that followed Marcus and Evan’s polite exit — a soft closing of the door, the distant creak of boots in the corridor.
The pack house felt larger with only the two of them in it, the shadows in the corners deeper, the lamplight making small, golden islands on the floor.
Elaine folded her hands tightly over her belly as if she could hold the pup there with will alone.
“Thank you,” she said again, voice small. “I don’t know what I’ll do if I have to go back and see them. I’ve accepted what happened… but I’m not ready to see them. Any of them.”
Her eyes dropped to the worn rug at her feet. Silverblade pack had become, in her mind, a monument to everything she had lost — to the mate who should have been her future and to the family that had turned away. The word
