When I closed my eyes, all I could see was Alexander’s text: three simple words that changed everything.
This is it.
The medication I had been taking for years—believing it would help me recover my wolf—was the very thing that had been poisoning me, silencing her all along. People I trusted, those who had access to my family at our most vulnerable, had done this to me.
The realization hit hard: someone within the medical community had to be the traitor, aiding David not only in poisoning me but also in orchestrating my father's death.
Tears burned my eyes as I thought of my father’s slow decline, the illness that treatment never managed to cure. Instead, it must have hastened his end, leaving our pack leaderless and handing everything over to David.
In my grief, I was
