A week later in the Guardian Pack, Maya's legs were finally free of bandages.
The skin beneath looked raw, marked with faded scars like painful memories tattooed into her flesh.
Though the healers had worked tirelessly, she still couldn't walk. Any pressure made her bite back a scream.
Her legs were nothing more than two damn useless sticks at this point, but at least she was out of those cursed bandages.
Alpha Logan stood silently in the corner of the room, face half-hidden behind his infamous silver mask.
His piercing eyes didn’t waver. He was still. Too still. Like a predator sizing up his prey or maybe something far more dangerous—a man resisting the urge to do something unspeakable.
The maid worked gently, carefully removing the final wrappings.
Maya flinched when the last
