Zarek.
Her cries tore through me like sharpened iron, each word slicing deeper than any wound I had ever endured. Valtira’s grief was a storm—violent, merciless—and all I could do was hold her, praying she wouldn’t break completely.
But she shoved at my chest with both hands, her nails digging through my tunic, scratching skin, drawing blood. She didn’t hold back.
She was not meant to.
“I will never forgive you, Zarek!” she screamed, voice cracking with pain and hatred. “I will make sure you taste tenfold of what I’m feeling—I swear it! You… your pack… all of you!”
Her words struck like arrows, each one embedding itself deep in my chest. My jaw tightened. I gritted my teeth, pulling her closer despite her thrashing. My claws flexed inside my palms, fighting the urge to unsheathe, my
