Mara
The breakfast table fell into silence the moment Lucian, Darian, and Alpha Vander left.
Lacy had her usual scowl aimed at me, like it was permanently etched into her face. Martha looked lost in thought, her eyes clouded with worry—blackmail clearly gnawing at her mind.
But Tiffany… Tiffany smiled. Soft. Gentle. The pregnant woman I once couldn’t stand now seemed more vulnerable than ever, picking at the fruit on her plate like she was trying to keep from breaking.
“How’s the holiday home, Mara?” she asked eventually.
“It’s peaceful,” I said. “Quiet. Just us.”
She smiled again, and then lowered her gaze.
“I envy that. Maybe when Darian finally gets over you, we can move on.”
There was no malice in her voice. Just hope laced with heartbreak. It hit me harder than I expected.
I
