Kimberly
Freedom.
It was a word that once felt foreign, something I dared not dream of when I first arrived at Kendrick’s estate. Back then, I was shackled in every sense of the word—by fear, by rage, by pain.
But now, walking freely through the estate grounds, I could finally breathe. I was no longer a prisoner in golden chains. I was living. And for the first time in a long time, I felt like myself again.
I had just returned to my room, a soft smile curling on my lips as I shut the door behind me. The morning had been unusually bright, not just with sunlight but with life.
I’d gone to the pack house, watched the warriors practice their formations, and even laughed along with a few of the young trainees. They had welcomed me, not as a forced Luna, not as the Blood Lord’s wife, but
