Cora
Grief is heavier when it’s a choice.
I sat on the floor of my old apartment, Riley’s crayon drawings spread out around me like shattered pieces of a life I was about to erase. The silence clung to me, thick and accusing. It wasn’t just the end of a chapter; it was quite literally the burning of a book.
No one, including myself, would ever finish reading it.
Kingston’s scent still lingered in my sheets. His touch, his voice, the way he’d curled around me in like I was the only thing anchoring him to this world, all of it haunted me as I packed away my past into taped-up boxes and battered duffel bags.
His love had never been in question. But love wasn’t armor against a pack that would destroy everything I held dear.
The Silverfangs had made their threat clear: disappear, or
