EMMALINE
Maggie folds her hands on the table, her gaze distant, as if she’s looking at something far beyond the walls of the kitchen. Something only memory can reach.
“It was five years ago,” she begins, her voice carrying the weight of years. “Five years since the night that changed Alexander forever.”
I lean forward instinctively, my fingers curling around the edge of the table.
“You see, before then, he wasn’t what you know now. He’d always been intense, yes. Brutal, even. His father raised him not as a son, but as the future Alpha—molded him into a weapon before he was old enough to choose otherwise.” She pauses, her expression softening with something almost like grief.
“But even then, his heart was open in a way only those who knew him would ever believe. He laughed easier. He
