Cole
Morning came, and to my surprise, Ivory was already up and ready. The eagerness in her eyes was unmistakable; she was anxious to question the Pathologist. As I slowly got out of bed, a low growl echoed in my mind. It was undoubtedly Rain, my wolf. He had done this a few times before, and nothing significant ever followed, so I usually didn't pay much attention. However, the closer I got to Ivory, the clearer and more vivid Rain's voice became. He said one word: "Mate," before receding into silence.
In those brief moments, I felt a sharp pain, an ache so intense that it couldn't have been mine or Rain's. It was Ivory's pain, her deep, internal suffering. Was this the agony she felt inside? Was this the desperation she experienced that day in court? I tried to reach out to my wolf, b
