I swallowed. “To who?”
He looked away, just for a second, like the wall behind me suddenly became more interesting. Or safer.
“To your mother,” he said finally. “Right after she gave birth to you. Before she…”
He didn’t finish.
Didn’t have to.
The silence after that was a wound, deep and pulsing. I didn’t fill it. I let it stretch, taut and unbearable, until it threatened to snap.
And then I broke.
"Why?" I asked, my voice shaking. "Why would you promise her something so—so cruel? Why keep me in the dark? I grew up thinking I was wolfless, worthless. The entire pack mocked me, bullied me, laughed at the pathetic half-human freak. I suffered. I endured it all in silence—for years. And it was all for nothing?"
He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. His hands were clasped, tight enou
