The meeting room was bright, the chandeliers spilling golden light over the polished table, chairs neatly lined in a circle for the gathering of Alphas and Elders.
But Alpha Logan sat rigid, his broad shoulders stiff, his gaze fixed on nothing. The men around him spoke of borders, treaties, looming threats but their words were muffled, distant, like flies buzzing.
Logan wasn’t here. Not really. His body sat in this chair of power, but his mind was miles away back at the mansion. Back with his mother, still tethered to life by the Moonhealers’ desperate hands. Back with his Luna, Maya...his fragile, broken mate who had seen something no woman should ever have to see.
The image clawed at him, tormenting his chest: Maya walking in on him in bed, another woman lying half-naked at his side,
