McKenna’s chest still ached from the words she’d heard earlier that day.
The revelation had struck like a blade: the people she’d called her parents were not her parents at all. They were McKayla’s guardians—witches, not wolves—and every warm memory she’d ever clung to suddenly felt hollow. Fake. A fabrication meant to keep her docile.
Her trust had been fractured into a thousand shards. Who was she? What had she been raised for? Who could she believe? Even Alpha Azeo, with all his hard edges and brutal honesty, had never told her this truth. Maybe he hadn’t known. Maybe he had.
The uncertainty pressed down on her like a weight.
She lay on her bed, eyes tracing the cracked lines in the ceiling, her mind spiraling. And then it came—the prickling heat across her skin, the unmistakable aw
