(Logan’s POV)
The palace feels like a dream I can’t wake from—sharp-edged, distant, and colder than I remember. And Evelyn…she’s a storm I didn’t see coming.
It’s been days since I left the capital, and yet her voice still echoes in my head.
“The purpose of me getting close to you was to be tormented.”
Every word slices deeper than the last.
Now, back at the pack house, I should feel grounded. But I don’t. Not even close. The place feels wrong.
Quiet in all the wrong places. Empty where it once felt full.
I shrug off my jacket, toss it on the nearest chair, and head to the bathroom. The journey was long, and I needed to wash away the tension clawing at my shoulders. But when I swing open the door, I stop cold.
The tub is dry. There is no steam, no scent of lavender or pine bark oi
