Victoria
I paced nervously across my father's old study at Howlthorne Manor, my fingers trailing over the leather-bound books that lined the walls. Leo had arrived moments ago, his expression grim as he entered the room. My wolf, Ava, stirred anxiously within me, sensing the tension rolling off him in waves.
"Did Tiny confirm what I felt?" I asked immediately, unable to contain my anxiety. "Is she really alive?"
Leo's golden eyes locked with mine. Something in his gaze made my stomach drop—a mixture of confirmation and concern that told me my intuition had been correct.
"Yes," he said, his deep voice resonating through the quiet study. "Your mother is alive, Victoria."
Those five words shattered fifteen years of grief and acceptance. My knees weakened, and I gripped the ed
