Vincent POV
I went to pick her up early.
The morning air was cool, the kind that kept a werewolf alert without stirring the instincts too sharply. I told myself it was just another outing for the children, another obligation I had agreed to and nothing more. That was the line I held onto as I parked outside her place and waited.
When she stepped out, that line cracked. She was wearing a fitted skirt, simple in design, dark and cleanly cut. It hugged her figure without excess, understated but precise.
For a brief second, my mind refused to place her as a mother of three, refused to reconcile the woman walking toward me with the years that had passed. She looked exactly as she had before everything shattered.
My gaze lingered longer than it should have. I felt it immediately, the shar
