She sighed. Ran a hand through her tangled hair. I could feel her walls starting to crack.
“Sit,” she said, pointing to the damn couch like she was the Alpha in the room.
And we obeyed.
Because make no mistake—she was the Alpha now.
“This is going to be a long story,” she said, voice tired. “And I don’t think you’re going to like any of it.”
And boy, I was not prepared at all.
——
By the time she finished telling us everything, we were seething.
Not angry.
Rabid.
My poor, beautiful mate—our mate—had suffered through hell, and for what? For being born different? For saying no to a pathetic excuse of an alpha who thought being rejected gave him the right to try and kill her?
He was dead.
He just didn’t know it yet.
So was the pack that let it happen. The pack that stood by while
