The murmur of voices in the Silver Creek clinic surrounded me as I moved through the hallways, keeping my head down and the hood of my jacket covering my face. I had arrived incognito, following the premonition that Nellie was not dead, my wolf instinct guiding me like a beacon toward the woman who had taken everything from me. Every step I took in this unfamiliar place was a reminder of my purpose, and when I called her by her cover name, pretending to be her sister, I confirmed it. I saw her at the reception desk. She was still alive and acting as if nothing had happened, but that was about to end. That very night, when she was about to leave her shift, I myself would take care of slicing her throat. After all, she was only an omega—what problem could there be with that?
That was when B
